


To Live Among Wolves

by FireflyFish



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflyFish/pseuds/FireflyFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A father and his son are on the run from bounty hunters, five years after the creation of the Galactic Empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scrublands

The trouble started when the bounty hunters shot them out of the sky to crash-land on a planet that was sparsely populated and on the edges of Imperial space.

The landing was brutal, ripping a hole in the hull as smoke rose up from the impact, black and strong against the stark blue sky.

The pilot and his passenger were defenseless in the semi-arid scrubland and they knew they had to move sooner rather than later, since it would take no time for the bounty hunters that shot them out of the sky to find them.

They gathered up everything they had and took as much water as they could carry before they left the crash site. The pilot, a tall man, carried his son to a safe distance before he hurried back and activated the ship’s self-destruct sequence.

Darting back to his child, he gathered up their things and peered at the distant mountains, where the scanner promised an outpost and civilization. He supposed the Hutts would own it, or some other crime syndicate, but that didn’t bother him.

Anything was better than having to deal with Imperials.

“Papa?” the young boy mumbled, peeking out from under the depths of his brown hood. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a warm smile as he picked his pack up and slung it onto his back before taking his son’s hand. “Why? Do you like it here?”

The boy looked around at the twisted short trees and the green, spiky plants that tumbled across the land in dangerous-looking piles. He reached out to one and let out a cry, pricking his finger before he father could swoop in to stop him. “It bit me!”

“Let me see,” the father murmured, squatting down to examine the crimson drop swelling up from one chubby, pink finger. It was nothing serious but he hated seeing the fat tears welling up in the boy’s blue eyes.

He pulled out a medical spray that would heal up the wound and take away the pain. His hands were gentle as he applied it. “There now…how does that feel? All better?”

The young boy looked at his finger for a long moment, turning it this way and that, bending the digit until he was confident the injury was cured. With a smile, he looked back up at his father and held out his little hand. “All better!”

“Good,” the man smiled and took his son’s hand as they started their hike to the mountains and hopefully a ride off of this planet.

Neither looked back as the ship exploded behind them.

* * *

 

It was nightfall when they decided to stop, making a small, rough camp in the middle of a particularly dense copse of trees. They lit no fire, nor hunted for food, as the father had seen the bounty hunters’ ships streaking through the darkening skies overhead.

The son sat against a grey log, wrapped up in his brown robes, his hood pulled over his golden hair. He was chewing on a ration bar and taking long, messy gulps from a canteen.

The father pulled out a scanner, comparing the directions given there to the stars overhead. It would take them the better part of two days to make it to the mountains and the outpost the scanner called Gingensu.

Two days was a long time for them to be out in the open with hunters on their trail, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He had to plan their next moves carefully and trust that they would be much more difficult to track on foot.

“Ancestors protect us,” he murmured softly before turning to smile at the boy next to him, who was transfixed by the stars. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“There’s so many of them…” the young boy sighed, pulling his hood back to take in the fullness of the indigo-black heavens, studded with stars and systems. The father settled down next to his son and smiled, pulling him close and pointing to a particularly bright star. “Do you see that star? Right above the tree line?”

The boy nodded, taking another bite of his ration bar. “Yeah…it looks happy.”

The father smiled. “That is Alderaan, a beautiful planet full of mountains and rivers. We went there once when you were very little.”

“We did?” the boy echoed, looking up at his father wide eyed. “I don’t remember.”

“You were very young then, not much more than a baby,” the father replied, his voice kind and gentle. “And that star? That’s Manaan. That’s where I taught you to swim.”

The little boy smiled. “I liked swimming. And the fish people were funny!”

“I know,” the father laughed, hugging his son tightly.

There was a long moment of silence between the two, the boy caught up in dreams of distant planets and future adventures with his father, whose grim thoughts were focused on if they were going to make it off this dusty rock in one piece.

_Please, just let us make it to the spaceport. Just let us make it and then I swear we will settle down some place quiet for a while._

He wondered when he had started praying to deities he did not believe in.

“What’s that one, Father?”

He followed his son’s finger to a distant and faint star that was just now coming to prominence. He didn’t need to look at the scanner to know the name of that star. That was the one star, the one planet they could never return to. The one that had been his home.

“That is Coruscant,” he murmured, his voice soft and distant. “The Emperor lives there now.”

“Can we go there?” the boy asked, fascinated, as if he could see something else beyond the sparkle of the night sky.

His father shook his head sharply and the boy could tell that he was not going to change his mind about this. “Why not?”

“It’s not safe,” the man said, suddenly very weary and exhausted. “And it’s time for you to get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Awww! Do I have to?” the boy pouted. “Will you tell me a story first?”

After a moment the man nodded, his eyes growing soft as they gazed upon his son. “What story do you want to hear?”

“I wanna hear a story about the Jedi!” the boy grinned. “Please?”

“About the Jedi, eh?” he sighed and tucked his son up against him, his soft, pink cheek against his chest. “Which one? There were quite a few, you know.”

“Papaaaa…” the boy muttered, squirming to a comfortable position.

“Ah, yes,” the father chuckled, blowing his bangs out of his face as if deep in thought. “Where did we leave off with General Skywalker and his clone troopers?”

“The bug planet,” the boy yawned as sleep began to steal over him. “I don’t like bugs.”

“Indeed,” his father smiled and began the next chapter of the adventures of Anakin Skywalker and his intrepid padawan Ahsoka Tahno as they raced to the rescue of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a story he had already told his son a hundred times over.

And he would tell it to him a hundred more until the sad day came when the old stories of Skywalker and Kenobi would no longer interest the child.

He prayed that day would never come.

* * *

 

“Papa! I’m tired!”

“We have to make it to that ridge before the sun sets,” his father said, walking back to him. “I know you’re tired, but we have to keep going.”

They had already dropped a blanket, a bag of security spikes and anything else the father judged they could leave behind.

All that left was a med pack, some rations and the last of their water, and even that seemed like too much, weighing them down.

After three days of this, the boy was exhausted and hungry and his father looked worn and gaunt. The probe droid they found earlier had spooked them both and after a few well-placed blaster bolts to dispatch it, they had taken off at a run, stumbling over rocks until they felt safe.

That incident had also used up the last of the power pack in the blaster.

Things were not going well.

“My feet hurt!” the boy protested, sinking to the ground. “I don’t wanna walk any more! I’m hungry and thirsty!”

The father took a deep breath and turned back to the dusty little boy on the grey-orange gravel.

His son looked up at him, his blue eyes full of weary defeat. His boots looked as if they had been walking over glass and the purple bags under his eyes worried his father. The mountains were closer, their shadow almost tantalizingly near, but both knew they weren’t going to get there any faster like this.

“Come here,” the man said, taking down his pack and rearranging this and that so it formed a makeshift carrier. Once the little boy was swaddled up in the fabric and straps the father carefully settled the whole contraption onto his back and started to plod towards the distant violet hills. If they could just make it to the slopes of the mountains they could hide in a cave long enough for the hunters to give up looking for the pair.

He hoped their luck would hold out long enough.

“Force protect us,” he murmured as he picked up his pace and hoped he wouldn’t burn himself out before they made it to safety.

* * *

           

They were at the edge of the shadow of the mountains when their luck gave out and the bounty hunters caught up to them on old speeders that looked like they were remnants of the Clone Wars from the previous night’s storytelling.

The gang drove around the two in a wide, dusty circle, the whine of the bikes hurting the boy’s ears. “Papa!”

His father stood his ground as the vehicles came to land on the hard orange and white rocks of the foothills.

The riders were a motley crew, a varied assortment of low-level thugs, trigger-happy Rodians and someone in mismatched and poorly maintained Mandalorian armor.

The man clearly in charge stepped off his speeder bike, one in considerably better shape than the rest. He wore a black synthleather jacket with a red scarf tucked into the collar. He brushed the dust off his sleeves and black-gloved hands before he walked toward his prey, a genial smile on his face.

“I’ll say this for you, Itto. You led me and my men on a merry chase,” the leader grinned, his black eyes alight with a cruel delight that reminded the father of enemy faces he had seen during the darkest parts of the wars.

He did not want his son to witness such horrors.

He held his hands open and loose at his sides and scanned the group around them. It looked like ten, maybe thirteen men with small blasters and a few grenades. Nothing that could do serious damage to a larger party but was more than enough to scare an exhausted and terrified duo that had been running for three days straight.

“How do you want this to go down?” the man in black asked, gesturing to his men, their blasters up and ready. “Now, if I were you, I would chose the easy way, one shot between the eyes and all your troubles are gone. Just poof! Enjoy the long sleep and become one with that Force thing those backstabbing Jedi were always prattling on about. If you choose the hard way, I’ll have to be more… creative. Either way, I’m taking your body back to Jabba for the money. ”

“And if I choose the hard way?” the man casually asked, his head tilting to the side, just a hair. “I have my son with me and, as I’m sure you can understand, I do not intend to part with him.”

Behind the leader, the assembled bounty hunters looked at each other as they shifted in place. There was something unsettling about this dirty and tattered man, his blue-green eyes piercing from under his hood. His mouth was pulled back into a seemingly genial smile but there was something about it that set them on edge. They itched to fire on this unarmed man and his son, strapped to his back like a swaddled babe.

“He won’t suffer,” the man in black assured the hooded father. “And then you’ll be together forever. I’m no slaver.”

“How very moral of you,” the father replied, looking over at one of the twitchy Rodians. “Your compatriot seems nervous.”

The Rodian angrily burbled that he was going to take pleasure in shooting the pair before the man with the red scarf cut him off. “Shut up, you idiot,” he said without looking behind him. “Now, do we have a deal? You make this easy and I don’t get, shall we say, inventive in bringing an end to you?”

The father frowned for a moment, stroking his chin and his voice neutral. “I suppose I have no choice then.”

He sunk down to his knees with his son on his back, much to the relief of the bounty hunters and their growing unease. They did not like him. They did not like his quiet manner and his calm presence in the face of death.

The little boy, however, let out a cry, terrified by all the men with guns and the leader’s horrible smile.

“Papa! Papa! I wanna go! Papa!” the boy cried pitifully, his little fists curled up in the rough brown wool of his father’s robes. “PAPA!”

The father sighed softly and reached up to pat his son’s fist, hidden in the worn fabric. “Do not worry, little one. I promise you we’ll be leaving shortly. Be patient and trust in the Force like I taught you.”

The boy sniffled and let out another wail and the bounty hunters looked uncomfortable at the sound. Killing someone who had stolen from a Hutt was one thing, but cutting down a crying child in cold blood was something else entirely.

“Couldn’t we just drop the kid of at some Alderaanian refugee station?” the mismatched Mandalorian asked the boss, turning from the kneeling man who sat with hands open, awaiting his fate. “He’s just a kid.”

“A kid who’s seen all your faces and can describe you to the Imps,” the leader retorted, shoving aside the patchwork hunter to point his gun straight at the bowed head of the man, his brown hair streaked with blond from the sun and a few strands of white at his temples. “Thanks for being such a good sport about this, Itto.”

The blaster exploded into a hundred tiny sparks as the front half crashed to the ground in front of the kneeling man, now standing, a bright blue lightsaber in his hand, his son in the other.

The assembled group let out a gasp and a few stumbled backwards, stunned to see the weapon of the enemies of the Empire out in the open after six years of sinking into history and myth.

“You’re…you’re not Ogami Itto, are you?” the leader frowned, his black brows furrowed in rage. “Who are you?”

“Someone you do not want to mess with,” the brown-haired Jedi smiled, an almost feral expression of confidence on his face.

He set his son down and told him to run and hide. The boy did so, practically vanishing into the dusty brown rocks surrounding the showdown. “Now, get back on your speeders and go back to your ship. Forget you ever saw us and I will let you live.”

The Rodian started to back away, sputtering that no one mentioned the target was a Jedi. He turned to clamber aboard his speeder when the leader shot him in the back, sending the green body crashing back to the ground.

Looking at the other men, the man jerked his head at the Jedi, the message clear. They could either die trying to take the target in, or their boss was going to shoot them down as they fled. The easy and hard way applied to them too.

The gang opened fire.

“Fools,” the Jedi muttered and then he was gone, leaping into the air with the aid of the Force, flipping over the heads of his enemies and landing with barely a sound behind them.

The Mandalorian turned first, firing off one angry red bolt after another, each one deflected with terrifying accuracy back into the small squad of hunters. The patchwork warrior charged him, firing as he ran, shouting a war cry that only seemed to make the Jedi angrier.

The cloaked man spun in a tight circle and neatly removed the Mandalorian’s head from the rest of his body.

Completing his spin, the Jedi turned to the men in front of him and made short work of them, his blue blade cutting through armor and flesh as easily as it cut through the junked-up speeders they had been riding.

He looked around for his next target and found that he had finished off the last of them, except for the leader, who had thrown aside his blaster pistols for a rifle slung across his back.

The man fired, the bolts stronger and rattling the Jedi’s bones as he deflected the attack. It had been a long time since he needed to block a Republic-issued heavy rifle, let alone a souped-up custom job.

He advanced toward the man in black, who, to his credit, wasn’t backing down. With each step closer, the blasts grew harder and harder to deflect until he was within striking range.

“Stop or I’ll shoot your kid!” his opponent shouted, turning to point his rifle at the boy’s hiding place, a large boulder and some scruffy sage bushes. “I mean it! Drop the blade or I’ll kill him!”

The Jedi arched an eyebrow and raised his hand in an almost casual gesture. “What makes you think I need this to kill you?”

The blade snapped off with a hiss that almost covered the sudden gasping, gurgling sound as the man in black began to choke, his eyes bulging in his face, his blaster rifle falling to the ground as he scratched at his neck, desperate for air.

The brown-robed man walked over to his son and picked him up, turning his face away from the horrible sight.

He grabbed his pack and started to walk back to the one speeder that hadn’t been damaged in the fight, letting the bounty hunter collapse back to the ground with a flick of his hand. Air rushed into his lungs, just enough to beat back unconsciousness.

The Jedi settled his son on the front of the speeder humming calmly above the ground.

“Are you all right, Luke?” the man asked, looking down at his son’s tear-stained face. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay, Papa,” the little boy said, rubbing at his cheeks and smearing the dark tracks of his tears across this face. “It was just like your stories. Scary and fast.”

The man nodded, his smile soft and gentle. “Yes. Very scary and fast.”

“Why were they following us, Papa?” the boy asked, looking over at the dazed man on his knees and then up at his father. “What did they want?”

“I stole something that belonged to a very angry Hutt,” his father explained, touching his nose and getting ready to climb on behind him. “And this is exactly why you, my dear boy, shouldn’t steal fruit from the stalls in the market. But let’s leave before any more friends of Jabba come for us.”

“You Jedi bastard!” the head bounty hunter roared, staggering toward the two with his last bit of strength and a vibroblade out and flashing in the sun. “You bantha rutting bastard!”

Luke let out a cry as his father spun around and in one fluid motion cut down the charging man, his attacker’s red scarf fluttering in the breeze of the speeder’s hoverlifts.

The vibroblade and the hand attached to it fell to the ground as the dying man sagged against the Jedi, whose face curdled with distaste.

The bounty hunter had just enough breath for one last question. “Who… are you?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The Jedi snapped his blade shut, feeling a perverse satisfaction in telling the truth for once.

The man fell next to the bike, dead before he hit the ground.

Obi-Wan shook his head, returned his lightsaber to its protective blaster pouch, and climbed onto the speeder behind Luke, who clung tightly to his waist as they sped off in the direction of the spaceport and the promise of escape.


	2. Empire Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The moment Obi-Wan took a new-born Luke in his arms, he loved him. He loved him simply because he was Anakin’s son. His own flesh and blood." - Keblava

_Five years ago… Empire Day._

Two men sat at a polished table in a white conference room, discussing the lives of two infants with the clinical detachment of droid merchants. Or at least that’s how it felt to Obi-Wan as he sat with them.

The girl was to go to Alderaan, raised in the arms of luxury, a dearly wanted daughter for the childless royal couple.

The boy was to go to Tatooine, to be raised as an obligation to people he shared no kinship with on a planet that was drowning in sand.

_No!_

Obi-Wan covered his mouth, faking an expression of deep thought to hide the sudden, blistering rage that sprang forth within. He wondered if Yoda sensed his almost primal reaction, and was glad when Bail Organa took his leave of the two Jedi, none the wiser to his growing fury.

“More to say have you, Master Kenobi?” Yoda asked, coolly observing the exhausted Jedi in singed robes before him. “Anger I sense in you. Passed this test already, you have.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, turning to look at the former Grand Master of the Jedi order.

“I do not understand why Luke is to be sent away to the Lars family,” he began, picking his words with great care. “Surely there are other families, friendly to the Jedi, that would be more than willing to raise Luke. Tatooine is so… desolate.”

_Yes, that sounds more than reasonable. Surely Master Yoda will reconsider._

“No,” Yoda replied, hopping off his chair with a puff of exertion. “To Tatooine and his family, the child goes. Far from the Empire he will be.”

_Anakin would hate the idea of strangers raising his son. To say nothing of doing so on Tatooine!_

No. He needed to make Yoda see reason.

“But Master Yoda,” the younger Jedi said, following after his venerable elder. “There is no guarantee that the Lars family will want to raise Luke. They are not his blood.”

“Understand, **you** will make them,” Yoda said, a faint thread of disapproval in the rasping tone of his voice. “Best for both the boy and you, this is. Training I have for you during your solitude.”

“Training?” Obi-Wan echoed, confused and irritated. Why, in the face of everything they had just lost to the Sith, was Yoda so damn set on this decision? Did he not understand that the Jedi Order was no more? That the customs and traditions of the Order went up in flames with the temple and the thousands of dead Jedi across the galaxy?

Was Obi-Wan to just leave Anakin’s son on a sandy doorstep and hope these people he had never met were caring and compassionate?

Was he to give up even this child? After everything the Force and the Order had taken away from him, it now asked for this final piece of his heart?

This was Anakin’s child!

This was all he had left of his padawan, his friend, and his brother.

This perfect, tiny being made of Anakin and Padme’s love for each other.

Was there no end to the things he was to lose?

First the Dark Side stole Qui-Gon.

Then it murdered Satine.

Ahsoka left.

Padme died.

And Anakin…

Darth Vader devoured Anakin from the inside out.

A black hole of fear and anger had swallowed whole the light of the man who had trusted him, who had bled with him, who had saved his life more times than he could count. He was… They were…

Skywalker and Kenobi.

Two halves of a single warrior.

If Anakin could not raise his son, then Obi-Wan would raise him in his stead.

“I will raise Luke,” he told Yoda, collecting himself, suddenly recalling his old master’s defiance in front of the council and the quirked eyebrow of Master Windu at Qui-Gon’s determination.

_Gone. All gone._

“Qui-Gon’s defiance, lives in you still,” Yoda rasped, closing his eyes and running a clawed hand over what remained of his sparse white hair. “Dangerous that is. Strong attachment to the boy you have. Need that, you do not.”

Obi-Wan said nothing, letting the memory of Qui-Gon’s defiance hover in the air between them.

“Stop you I cannot,” Yoda sighed and climbed back onto his meditation cushion by the room’s large window. “Foolish and reckless, Skywalker made you.”

Obi-Wan continued his silence, waiting for the tension between them, between the last two Jedi Masters in the galaxy, to ease.

When it became clear Yoda would say no more, Obi-Wan turned and walked out, his heart aching at such a bitter parting.

He prayed they would meet again and the ancient Master would see that he had made the right decision.

His mysterious ‘training’ would have to wait.

Back in the conference room, Yoda spoke to no one and everyone. “Your padawan, he is. Defiant and reckless, Kenobi has become, like Skywalker.”

“He will learn in time.” The low, warm tones of a long-lost voice filled the room. “No one will love the boy more than Obi-Wan. Trust in the Force, old friend, and all will be well.”

“Your faith in this, share, I do not,” Yoda replied, closing his eyes and settling into a deep meditation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to thank everyone who left kudos or took the time to comment. Your kind words and actions were so wonderful and left me floating on a cloud all week. (And then paralyzed with fear that I would screw everything else up. Haha! ^__^;;;) 
> 
> This whole story was inspired by a post on tumblr from Keblava, who I quoted at the top. Keblava has an excellent tumblr, full of all kinds of Star Wars goodies and I highly recommend it. You can find the whole post [here:](http://keblava.tumblr.com/post/137635809799/the-moment-obi-wan-took-a-new-born-luke-in-his)
> 
> Anyway, I read Keblava's post and the image of the first chapter sprang to mind. Then the whole thing grew legs and ran away with itself. 
> 
> Chapter 3 will return to the action in the present day and is tentatively scheduled for posting next week. I update my writing status occasionally at my own tumblr [FireflyFish](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com) and post other Star Wars, nerd related things as well. Thanks for stopping by!


	3. Gingensu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired." - Robert Southey

Two lazy Gamorreans guarded the main tunnel up to Gingensu and Obi-Wan waved away their brief flicker of curiosity as he slowed his speeder long enough for the gates to open.

Luke was burrowed against his chest, unseen behind the long brown sleeves of his father’s robe as they journeyed upward into the mountain. They sped through a two-lane tunnel, the cool underground air washing over them as they passed through several turn offs before they came to the elevator that would take them to the surface above.

Obi-Wan sat back on the vehicle and let out a sigh as he gazed up at the top of the transport shaft. Faint yellow light seeped around the edges of the ceiling, throwing odd, faint shadows on the wall as they moved ever upward.

“Papa?” Luke mumbled against Obi-Wan’s shirt. “Are we safe now?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced. “We will be soon, little one. I promise.”

Luke leaned back to look up at his father, his lips curled up in an angry pout. “How soon?”

For a second he looked so much like Anakin that Obi-Wan had to remind himself he was talking to the son and not the father.

_Anakin is lost to us._

“Papa?” Luke’s scowl faded away, a brief spring storm gone at the subtle shift in the Force around Obi-Wan. “I’m sorry. Don’t be sad, Papa.”

Obi-Wan leaned over to ruffle Luke’s hair, a soft and blonde fringe over solemn blue eyes. “When did you become such a wise boy? Hmmm? Did the Force teach you?”

Luke laughed, the sweet, bright sound breaking up the gloom of the elevator shaft just as the ceiling unspooled above them. He leaned against Obi-Wan and looked over his shoulder as the lift ground to a halt and a green light flashed, signaling that they could depart. Obi-Wan leaned in to grab the handlebars and they started down the main strip of the outpost.

Gingensu was small but full of people coming and going along the main road that ran down the center of the settlement. Obi-Wan waited as a tall, green Duros crossed their path, bowing his head in thanks once he was safely on the other side. Obi-Wan nodded and the speeder continued down the road, pausing for a mother and child and then a droid that looked like it was older than the mountains around them.

By the time they came to the end of town and found a place to park the speeder, Obi-Wan had decided it was best that they left this small place as quickly as possible. These were innocent civilians and the longer he and Luke stayed there, the greater the danger for the villagers.

He slid off the bike and picked up Luke, placing the boy on the ground and squatting in front of him.

Luke smoothed out the top layers of his shirt and scrubbed what was left of the dried tear tracks from his cheeks. He shook out his dusty blond hair, pulled his small robe back into place, and looked up at Obi-Wan with a smile. “Do I look like a Jedi, Papa?”

Obi-Wan chuckled and nodded, giving the boy a thorough looking over before he decreed that he looked the very image of one.

“But that is our secret, Luke,” the tall man said, standing up and making sure his lightsaber was hidden away in a hip pouch. “Now come with me, young one. It is time to find our way off of this planet.”

Luke grabbed his father’s hand and beamed as they started walking back toward the main stretch of town. He hoped the next planet they went to had water and green, growing things. He was tired of arid deserts and prickly scrublands.

* * *

  

Obi-Wan and Luke walked into the town and down the main drag of the settlement, people calling out greetings as they passed. Obi-Wan made small talk with shopkeepers and families, gathering bits and pieces of important information as they strolled down the main thoroughfare.

Luke made friends with every child, droid and pathetic furry life form they met: at one point Obi-Wan had to remind Luke that they had no place to raise a mooka, let alone the credits to feed it. Luke pouted for a solid two minutes before a crate full of ferbils distracted him.

The Jedi prayed to the Force for patience and dragged Luke past as he protested every step of the way.

Gingensu was the largest spaceport on the continent, a sparsely populated landmass that was full of settlers and refugees from not only the populated eastern continent but off-world as well.

This mix of disparate peoples had become one over time, proud of their shared heritage and their choice to make a home in the unforgiving spires of the Gingen mountains. They were proudly loyal to the Empire, with some even draping Imperial flags over the open-air entrances of their homes.

Obi-Wan and Luke met a junk dealer who was willing to take the speeder off of their hands for enough money to get them off-world and onto another transport once they reached the next spaceport over.

He was extra generous when, in the course of the conversation, he learned that Luke’s mother had died in childbirth, as he had lost his own wife the same way.

“We were invaded by Separatists and the stress sent her into labor,” the dark-skinned man sighed, looking off into a past shaded with sorrow. “They wouldn’t let us travel to the East for medical support, and the town’s medical droid couldn’t save them both.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard as memories of a dying voice drifted over the dusty, empty road.

_There is good in him._

No, there wasn’t.

“And the child?” Obi-Wan asked, praying for a positive turn in the conversation.

“She’s nine and the joy of my life,” the man beamed as his daughter loped over to them, lean and wild, untouched by the shadows that haunted her father’s past. “Helena! Meet Itto Ogami and his son Daigo. He’s passing through on his way to…?”

“Alderaan,” Obi-Wan answered, his voice warm and smooth, just a faint golden shade of the Force harmonizing with his words. “We have family there.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Alderaan,” Helena beamed, her green eyes bright with wide-eyed curiosity. “Is it true the mountains there have snow in the summer?”

Obi-Wan nodded and then proceeded to answer roughly twenty questions about the galaxy at large and it was clear she had a hundred more in reserve. The junk dealer’s daughter was bright and insatiably curious. In another life, another time he would have happily stayed there and answered every one of her questions.

Unfortunately Luke’s stomach had other ideas and it let forth a small but determined growl for lunch.

The boy blushed, a little intimidated by the gregarious girl before him. He sidled back to his father’s side and clutched Obi-Wan’s hand in both of his. “I’m hungry Papa…”

“That’s enough Helena,” the junk dealer said, as Obi-Wan leaned down to pick up Luke and settled him on his hip. “Ogami and his boy need to get going. Say your good byes and take the speeder to the back.”

Helena pouted at her father and turned back to Obi-Wan. “It was nice to meet you, sir. You too, Daigo! May the Force be with you.”

She turned on her heel and ran off to the speeder before the Jedi could say anything, struck dumb by words he hadn’t heard on another’s lips in years.

Obi-Wan thanked the ancestors that Luke was too tired and grumpy to respond in kind.

“Don’t mind her,” Helena’s father chuckled weakly, panic and fear tainting the edges of his voice. “She likes to read a lot and she’s really into the myths about the Jedi right now.”

Obi-Wan shook his head as the junk dealer prattled on, sounding more nervous by the second. Talking about the Jedi to the wrong person was tantamount to treason in the age of the Empire.

“Children love myths and stories,” the Jedi replied, an understanding, fatherly mask on his face to hide the pain of denying his own existence. “Especially tragic stories. If I may ask, who lifted the Separatist siege on your planet?”

“Lord Vader himself!” the junk dealer boasted proudly.

“Oh, really?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.

The junk dealer continued on, talking about how amazing Lord Vader’s triumph was and all the coverage their planet got on the Holonet. He was trying to backpedal, to assure the stranger that their family was a good, loyal Imperial family.

Obi-Wan nodded at the appropriate times and pretended to brush Luke’s hair out of his face with his free hand, urging the Force to comfort the anxious man and assure him that Obi-Wan and Luke meant no harm.

Luke’s stomach gurgled in protest, louder and more insistent.

“I don’t suppose you could recommend a place where we could stay and get a bite to eat?” Obi-Wan asked, relieved to have a way out of the conversation.

“Try Molly’s Cantina,” the dealer suggested, also relieved at the change in topic. He pointed out the brightly colored awning at the other end of the main strip. “Her sister Katzy runs the inn across from the spaceport. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean and comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan gave a small bow, Luke silent in his arms. “Stars keep you well, my friend.”

“And you too, sir!” the dealer waved as he walked back into his shop, the Force already urging the man to forget the details of Obi-Wan and Luke’s face.

* * *

  

Obi-Wan and Luke walked into Molly’s small cantina, a place well lit and full of warm conversations and laughter. A pair of children darted out past the father and son, the chastising words of their mother chasing after them in vain.

Stepping inside, Obi-Wan spotted a small table tucked against a corner with a view of the front door and the rear exit. He nodded to the bartender as they made their way to the plasticreet table.

Luke settled down into his seat and peered at all of the new and exciting people. There were two Twi’leks arguing over a podrace at the bar, a Duros couple talking quietly near a front window, and a few local families that were chatting amicably over the din of the rest of the patrons: a mix of humans, near-humans, and a Wookie, who was watching the race with the Twi-leks.

It had been a long time since Luke had seen so many different people all living together and he tried to remember the polite way to greet someone in Durese.

A Twi-lek waitress walked over to the two, giving Luke an extra charming smile. “Hello there, strangers! What can I get you?”

“I would like some tea and my son here would like some bantha milk if you have any,” Obi-Wan smiled, playing the part of weary traveler with great ease. “Do you recommend anything to eat? We’ve been travelling the past three days.”

“Oh, my!” the waitress gasped, her eyes round with shock. “I hope that wasn’t your ship everybody’s been talking about!”

_Damn it._

“Oh, no. We’re just passing through the area and my son got a little space-sick,” Obi-Wan replied, a lie leaping to his lips as his index finger made a circle on the pad of his thumb.

The Force washed around him and through the charming green Twi’lek, shoring up the holes in his story as he ordered two hot plates of whatever it was that smelled so good.

“We’re getting shipments from the Empire now,” the waitress said as she turned back to the bar. “So we’ve got the good stuff, even saberfish steaks from Chandrilla.”

“What’s a saberfish, Papa?” Luke asked.

“It’s a fish with a sword on its nose,” Obi-Wan explained, looking over at the boy’s curious expression. “Do you remember where Chandrilla is?”

The boy’s brow furrowed as he pictured the galaxy and the different navigational marks. Chandrilla sounded pretty and important, like Alderaan, but not scary and dangerous like Malachor or Korriban. There was something about those names that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and Luke shivered at the memory of a ghost story.

“It’s a… Core World?” the child guessed, peeking up at his father with a nervous smile, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Well done,” Obi-Wan said, ruffling Luke’s hair as he thanked the waitress for his son’s drink and his tea. “Oh! My dear? I don’t suppose you know when the next off-world ship is leaving, do you?”

“Tomorrow at oh-six-hundred standard hours. But that’s just headed to the next system.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “What is the next system?”

“Ord Mantell, but there’s a bigger transport for Mandalore or Coruscant at the end of the week,” the waitress said, waving to Luke as she continued on with her work.

“ _Eh chuta,”_ Obi-Wan murmured, taking a sip of his tea.

The bounty hunters suddenly made a lot more sense.

Luke turned to peer at the holoscreen as his father sat deep in thought. The pod race was over and a news program was on, hosted by a pretty woman in a weird headdress. She was talking to a large, funny gentleman who would rock on his seat, laughing, every time he told a joke. Luke didn’t understand his humor but he looked silly and that was enough to make the boy giggle, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention to the screen.

The young announcer leaned in to ask the portly comedian another question when the feed was interrupted with an announcement from the Galactic Empire. Obi-Wan frowned and leaned forward, his hands stroking his beard as he listened to the news.

“My fellow Imperial citizens,” the spokesperson said, his voice as clipped and polished as Naboo chrome. “The Jedi menace to the Empire is no more! Today, the Emperor is pleased to announce that Lord Vader and his 501st Battalion killed the last of their treasonous kind. The cowardly Jedi were hiding on Seswenna and Lord Vader personally oversaw their apprehension and execution. No longer will we jump at shadows, fearing the devious tricks of these charlatans and their ‘Force’. From this day forward, our great Empire will rise above magic tricks and superstition! Glory to the Empire! Long live the Emperor!”

The people in the cantina cheered as Luke looked back at his father.

His blue eyes were narrowed and Luke could almost see the thoughts racing around inside his head. He understood that someone had died, maybe someone his father knew, and that he was angry. The little boy could feel the anger through the Force, hot and bubbling like water in a tea pot. His father was always angry whenever he heard about the Empire hurting people.

Luke reached out with one hand and placed it on his father’s. “Papa?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exhaled it, shaking his head a bit as the anger broke up like clouds after a storm. Luke started to relax as Obi-Wan took the boy’s hand in his and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you, Luke,” Obi-Wan murmured, surprised and touched by the boy’s sensitivity. “How is your bantha milk?”

Luke took a long sip and shrugged, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “It’s nice. Can I have some tea?”

The elder Jedi carefully pushed his tea over to Luke, who spent a good five minutes blowing on the cup before he was certain that the tea would be cool enough for his tongue. He managed to smile as Luke took a careful sip and placed the white plastic cup back on the table with a thoughtful expression.

“Well?”

Luke frowned. “It’s not sweet.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “True. I’ll ask our charming waitress for honey when she comes back around.”

The two were quiet for the most part while they waited for their food. Luke watched the holonet show, which now had a new guest, a young man in an Imperial uniform.

The guest was all smiles as he talked about the dead people on Seswenna. The young boy grew more and more irritated as the jowly comedian continued to laugh.

Luke did not know much but he knew that death was forever.

The dead did not get up, even if you begged them to. They did not go back home to their families. They did not ever come back.

His friend was dead.

His mother was dead.

Luke knew all about death.

Obi-Wan frowned as Luke’s chubby hands began to curl into tiny white fists. He looked over at the Holonet and let the flow of energy in the cantina guide him to the small knob that would change frequencies. With an exhale of will, the channel changed to a holodrama that seemed to be about mistaken identity and star-crossed lovers.

Luke turned away from the romantic schmaltz with characteristic five-year-old disgust. “Oh yuck!”

“Here’s lunch!” the genial Twi’lek announced with a smile as she returned with their food, and as they ate all their dark thoughts were washed away in a tidal wave of hunger and then pleasantly full bellies.

Once they finished their meal, they walked over to the inn, Luke dozing on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

The aforementioned Katzy showed them to a small room with a bed large enough for two, a refresher, and a table with a chair. There was a dirty square transparasteel window that looked onto the main street and the landing pad, where a small local transport was cooling off while the pilot refueled and travelers lined up to hand over their credits.

Obi-Wan laid Luke down on the soft, clean bed before he pulled off his tattered shoes and outer robe. He pulled the blanket up around the boy and then let out a breath he had been holding since the cantina and the holo announcement.

The exhausted Jedi sat down in the chair that faced the window and Luke’s sleeping form, fully intending to meditate on his feelings, to find some peace and clarity in the Force.

He closed his eyes but sleep took him before he could stop it. Soft, warm darkness carried away his worries and fears, if only until he woke up and, thank the stars, Obi-Wan did not dream that afternoon. 

* * *

  

He woke up to the sounds of a small crowd gathered outside of the window.

Obi-Wan jumped up and his lightsaber flew to him, igniting between the twin beats of his heart. He looked around frantically, reaching out with the Force to find the attackers.

Luke was still asleep, wrapped up tightly under his blanket and the older Jedi hurried over, looking down at the boy’s curled fists.

When his searching into the Force revealed nothing, Obi-Wan deactivated his saber and walked to the window, peering out through the brown-tinted square with a sinking feeling in his chest.

There was a small crowd across the street, their backs turned to the inn.

The assembled townspeople were captivated by something large, grey, and geometric. Obi-Wan did not need to squint to see what it was. He had seen more than his fair share of Imperial Troop transports, essentially redesigned gunships from the Clone Wars.

He watched as the crowds parted and a squadron of gleaming white stormtroopers marched out into the street, followed closely by a few grey-suited Imperial officers and two black-suited pilots. Three stormtroopers peeled off to wait at the ship with the pilots, turning on their heels when dismissed by their superiors.

Obi-Wan frowned as he watched the squadron and the officers march down the main street, sinking back into his chair with a soft groan. He wished Anakin was there to fling a few colorful curses around so that he could distract himself with an acerbic scold or two. Perhaps an eyeroll or even a witty retort from Ahsoka.

Instead he was left with oppressive silence and the panic-inducing anxiety of his responsibility to the sleeping child in his care.

How the hell was he going to get Luke off the planet now?


	4. The Legend of Anakin Skywalker

Luke awoke some time later, the setting sun streaming through the window and painting the far wall with fire. A yawn rose up from his chest, a loud roar of sleepy contentment, as he stretched out on the mattress. Pushing himself upright, he saw his father peering over some data pads and credit chits, his lightsaber on the table next to him. The boy frowned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet not quite making it to the floor.

“Papa? What’s wrong?” Luke asked. He sounded like a baby and he didn’t like that. He sat up taller and pulled his shoulders back, trying to be brave like the Padawan Tahno from his father’s stories.

Obi-Wan turned to Luke, a flash of confusion passing over his face before his blue eyes darted from the boy to the table and his lightsaber. The older Jedi picked up the weapon, returning it to his hip. “You are very observant, little one. Just like General Skywalker.”

_Like father, like son._

Luke, however, would not be dissuaded from his worries and seeing this, Obi-Wan walked over to sit next to his ward. He put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and told him what had happened while they were sleeping. “A group of Imperial officers and storm troopers landed in the spaceport across the way.”

Luke’s blue eyes grew round, his lower lip trembling. “Are we in trouble? Do we gotta run away like on the Tweeleak Planet?”

“Ryloth?” Obi-Wan corrected gently, smoothing back Luke’s hair. “No. I do not think we are that desperate but we must be on our best behavior. Do you understand what that means?”

Luke frowned, his lips pulled into a deep, thoughtful frown. “No more talkin’ about Jedi?”

Obi-Wan’s voice was warm, even if his expression was solemn. “Annnnd.... ?”

Luke looked off to the side, trying to remember what he had forgotten. Was it no talking about General Skywalker? No. He’d already said that. No talking about his mother being dead? Luke kicked his legs against the bed as he continued to ponder.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and tapped his chest as he made a great show of looking at the wall.

“OH!” Luke’s face lit up. “I am Daigo Ogami and your name is Itto! We are from Naboo and travelling to Alderaan to meet our family and honor our ancestors.”

It was a commonly understood idiom in the galaxy that “travelling to Alderaan to meet family and honor the ancestors” actually meant “we are refugees looking for safe haven”, or at least it was among a certain class of refugees.

Obi-Wan found it more expedient to play the part of a well-bred, former noble brought low by war than to try passing as something else: it explained his Coruscanti accent and his polished manners. Otherwise they might have raised an eyebrow or two pretending to be displaced farmers or a petty merchant and son.

The hoped-for response to this subtle plea for help was “I have been to Alderaan and your kin treated me well.” That would indicate that aid and a safe haven had been found. In certain sectors of the galaxy Naboo, Chandrilla or Pantora could be substituted for Alderaan, but not Coruscant.

Not anymore.

“Yes, we are traveling to Alderaan.” Obi-Wan nodded, ruffling Luke’s hair. “Good. Now, into the refresher with you. You look like you’ve been rolling around in a sarlacc pit.”

Luke hopped off the bed and walked into the refresher, peeling off his dusty clothes and tossing them to his father. Obi-Wan punched in a safe temperature for Luke’s shower and left to give the boy his privacy.

Obi-Wan laid the dirty clothes over the back of the chair by the window. He would have to rinse them out and dry them in the sonic before they left this planet.

The Jedi reached into the grey backpack on the table, pulling out a pair of dark blue pants and a light blue short-sleeved shirt. He placed them on the bed for Luke and then pulled out his own outfit, one in matching blues and charcoal with a black overcoat. These were the only civilian clothes they owned, and he smoothed them out gently.

Sinking down into the bed next to the clothes, Obi-Wan pulled off his own boots and socks, slowly adding to the laundry pile he’d have to tackle later. In the background, he could hear the boy pretending to vanquish General Grevious with an imaginary lightsaber. It brought a smile to Obi-Wan’s face.

_Anakin would have loved that._

_If he were still with us._

The smile vanished and he shook his head, trying to clear the heartbreaking thought from his mind.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out a thick cylinder covered in black fabric and tied up with a leather thong. It was heavy in his hand, weighed down more with memories than actual mass.

The Jedi wondered if he should uncover the saber, while he was certain Luke was occupied and not going to wander in an ask questions Obi-Wan didn’t have the answer to.

Not yet, anyway.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever have the answer to those questions.

The shower turned off and Obi-Wan heard the patter of Luke’s feet on the tile. He shoved the weapon back into the pack, pulling out a third and setting it down in the neck of his boots. Just in case.

“Papa?” Luke peeked out from the refresher, wrapped up in a simple white towel. “All done!”

“Good. I have a task for you, my young one.” Obi-Wan pulled out a gently glowing blue cube covered in delicate gold filigree. “Do you know what this is?”

Luke stared at the blue object as he pulled his shirt on. “A holocron?”

Obi-Wan nodded and placed it in Luke’s hands. “This was my first holocron, made for me by my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. Your task is to try and open it while I am in the refresher. Can you do that?”

Luke looked down at the glowing cube and then back up at Obi-Wan, his eyes shining at the challenge. The boy gave him a confident grin. “Yes! Thank you, Papa!”

Obi-Wan laughed and patted Luke’s head. “Don’t rush, my boy. It took General Skywalker a whole week to open his first holocron.”

Luke didn’t answer, already dipping his mind into the Force, searching for the beacon of light that was this object of power and wisdom.

Obi-Wan smiled and left his charge to his task.

* * *

 

“Luke?”

“Luuuuke?”

 **Luke, come back to me.** Obi-Wan’s thoughts drifted through the flow of the Force, startling the young boy out of the deep reverie he was in.

The boy jerked up, looking around for his father, worried he had been gone too long. He saw Obi-Wan kneeling in front of him, his hand on Luke’s shoulder and his brows furrowed with concern. He could feel the trace of his father’s presence on his spirit, warm and strong with shiver of concern that was slowly fading from the back of his mind.

Luke looked down at the cube and then back up at Obi-Wan, holding it up to him. “I couldn’t get Master Qui-Gon to come out. I’m sorry Papa.”

Obi-Wan nodded, as if he was expecting that answer, and took the holocron from Luke, returning it to the pack. He looked back at the boy with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, little one. I told you that even General Skywalker had problems opening his first holocron.”

He damn near broke it when it wouldn’t listen to him. Obi-Wan thought, shaking his head a little as he went to return the cube to its holder and then freezing as he felt a piece out of place.

He pulled the holocron back up and examined it, stunned to see that the corners were ever-so-slightly out of alignment and the ghost of Luke’s will lay wrapped around the cube.

He had almost done it.

Had Obi-Wan not interrupted the young boy, Luke would have opened up Qui-Gon’s holocron without issue.

The Jedi took a deep breath and looked over at Luke, who was slumped over and clearly dejected about the whole thing.

“Did you really wish to see Master Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Luke thought about this for a long moment before he shook his head. “No. I…um…I really wanna see…um…”

The boy trailed off, suddenly worried that he should not be asking for what his heart wanted.

“General Skywalker?” Obi-Wan exhaled the name of Luke’s father, as if saying the name out loud would some how summon the spirit of the lost warrior into the room.

Luke nodded, not daring to peek up at his father.

Obi-Wan closed Qui-Gon’s holocron and pulled out another, this one with a spare, elegant design. He placed it on the table and reached out with the Force, finding that spark of light and presence, gently urging it to full bloom with his own spirit.

Anakin’s face appeared, hovering between the dancing triangles. He was smiling and looking at someone out of the range of the hologram. His hair was shorter and he was in the simple tans and browns of temple attire.

The ghost in the room began to speak.

“What am I supposed to say, Master? I’m no teacher,” Anakin’s voice was light, threaded with embarrassed laughter. “Dear future Padawans, Master Kenobi fights like an old man.”

“ANAKIN.”

Luke looked over at his father, shock on his face. “Papa? Are you in there too?”

Obi-Wan nodded, no expression on his.

“I’m sorry!” Anakin laughed and turned to face the viewer. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic and former Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who is insisting that I keep a record of my thoughts for posterity.”

“Commander?” Luke asked, confused. “You called him a general!”

Anakin continued to squabble with the off-screen Obi-Wan as the elder one looked off to the side and then back at Luke. “He wasn’t always a general. Just like I wasn’t always his master. There was a time when even I was a young padawan, just like you.”

Luke looked absolutely shocked. “Papa was a padawan?”

Obi-Wan chuckled at the horrified expression on the boy’s face and nodded. “Yes. A long time ago, before even the Clone Wars, I was a padawan and Qui-Gon was my master.”

_Things were so much simpler then._

Luke thought about this new fact for a moment before announcing. “So… that was a million years ago, right?”

The newly decreed Ancient One ran his hand down his face and tried hard not to laugh. “Yes. Roughly.”

* * *

 

The dying sun painted the sky violet and indigo as Luke and Obi-Wan emerged from the small inn to walk back to the cantina, now packed with the local town folk.

As they made their way down the street, Luke held his father’s hand as they turned away from the spaceport and the white-clad stormtroopers standing guard.

They looked strange to his eyes, shining white statues with black eyes and angry mouths. Luke didn’t like them and couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling they gave him. He tightened his hold on his papa’s hand and hurried to keep up.

There was excited chatter everywhere as the two arrived at the cantina, hoping for a small place to sit and eat in peace.

Just as it looked like they were going to have to sit at the bar, Obi-Wan heard a voice call out to him. “Itto? Itto Ogami! Over here!”

He turned toward the source of the voice, surprised to the see the smiling junk dealer from before, his daughter Helena waving enthusiastically. The Jedi smiled and scanned his memory for the name of the man inviting them to dinner.

“Ah! Mercerr!” Obi-Wan led Luke through the throng of townspeople.

They sat down at the table with the father and daughter, Obi-Wan peering at the crowd. “Is everyone in town here?”

Mercerr nodded, sipping his caf and observing the crowd. “Looks like. The Imperial arrival has everyone buzzing. They’re setting up a proper spaceport with customs officers and everything. I hope this means Gingensu will start getting more inter system travel.”

Obi-Wan managed to catch the eye of a new server, a young man with a shaved head and a swirl of black triangle tattoos that ran down his neck and vanished beneath the neck of his shirt. The young man walked over to their table and greeted the junk dealer with a smile. “Mercerr! Helena! Good to see you! Who are your friends?”

“This is Itto Ogami and his son Daigo,” Mercerr said, gesturing to Obi-Wan and Luke, who gave the waiter his best grin. “Itoo, this is Redric Goldsun. His mother runs the spaceport. Itto and Daigo are on their way to Alderaan.”

“I wish I could go to Alderaan,” Helena pouted, her arms folded over her chest.

“Maybe you can come visit us!” Luke offered, looking up at his father. “Can she, Papa?”

Obi-Wan smiled at the young girl and nodded. “I’m sure that if Helena and her father have a chance to visit Alderaan, we would be more than happy to have them stay with us.”

_Although I can’t imagine the Empire will let them leave this dusty rock once they take control of the spaceports._

He tried to shake off the bitterness of his thoughts, placing the shadows back into the small box they belonged in.

“What can I get you?” Redric asked and Obi-Wan ordered a small dinner of local favorites while Luke got bowl of simmering meat stew and some fresh bread and butter.

“Did anyone in the settlement know the Imperials were coming?” Obi-Wan asked, since it was clear the Empire was all anyone was talking about in the cantina. “It seems like it was quite a surprise.”

Mercerr shrugged, looking out at the excited, gossiping townsfolk. “I don’t really know. Some people think it has something to do with that ship that crashed a few days ago and the bounty hunters that blew through town looking for the survivors. Our mayor complained to the Big Wigs back east but we didn’t expect something like this.”

 _Neither did I,_ Obi-Wan thought darkly. _I wonder if we’re not as anonymous as I thought._

“Does this mean I can go to the Imperial Academy?” Helena asked around a mouthful of mashed tuber and butter. “Can I learn to be a pilot?”

“We’ll see, my dear,” the junk dealer sighed, turning to look at Obi-Wan with the bittersweet weariness of fatherhood in his eyes. “Always on the move, aren’t they?”

Obi-Wan smiled in agreement. “Yes. I can’t seem to remember the last time I had that much energy.”

Luke asked Helena a question about the Imperial Academy and the young girl was off, telling them all about her plans to fly all over the galaxy in the Imperial Navy and how she would one day meet Darth Vader and thank him for freeing her planet from the tyranny of the Separatist droid armies.

 _Oh, I’m sure he’d love that,_ Obi-Wan mentally snorted behind the pleasant façade of Itto Ogami. He was listening with one ear while the other was tuned to the flow of conversation and people at the tables around them, his eavesdropping slightly augmented by the Force.

“I hear they’re going to invest in our settlement! Make it the capitol for the whole of the western continent.”

“They’re just here to run bounty hunters and pirates off.”

“I have a cousin in the Imperial Fleet and he says they don’t even get food to eat, just weird nutrition milkshakes.”

Obi-Wan turned to Luke, who was enjoying his meal. The young boy was calm and levelheaded, even at such a young age. For all of the times that he reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin, there was a quiet gentleness to him that spoke of Padme and her boundless compassion.

A life on the run might have bothered another child but Luke took it all in stride, as if every dangerous situation was another adventure to be had.

“Well, however long they’re here for, they can’t do much right now,” one of the gruff pilots drinking at the bar grumbled to a companion. “They ain’t got an office and none of their comms are up. They won’t be until tomorrow afternoon. Can’t do much customs work without that.”

Obi-Wan tucked that particular fact away for later and turned back to his dinner. If the only window to leaving the planet unnoticed was the first ship tomorrow morning for Ord Mantell, then they would be on that ship.

And no jack-booted, grey suited Imperial was going to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update. I got sick and then job issues got in the way. But I'm back and I will do my best to be get back on a regular update schedule. I have another AU that I'm kicking around and if I decide to post it my update schedule will probably bounce back and forth between To Live Among Wolves and the As-Of-Yet-Unnamed-AU, one every other week.
> 
> I want to thank every last person who left a kudos or a comment. I am always so thrilled to receive the notification. I am so lucky and I can never thank you enough. m(_ _)m Thank you all so much!


	5. 0600

Obi-Wan needed more caf.

After confirming that the next flight out was to Ord Mantell at oh-six hundred hours the next morning, Obi-Wan and Luke had retired back to their room. The Jedi had reappeared once, around half past nineteen hundred hours to purchase a pot of caf from the cantina, promising to leave it with the innkeeper when he and Luke checked out the next day.

 _I’ll probably need to wipe it for fingerprints_ the Jedi groused to himself as he stared at the nearly empty, cold pot of dark brown liquid. _Stars but I hate cold caf._

It was two hours past midnight and Obi-Wan desperately wanted to lay his head down on the table and sleep. He had tucked Luke in hours ago and there were another three hours to go before he would rouse the boy from his sleep.

Luke was curled up under the thin blankets, facing away from the blue light of moon coming in through the dirty window. His blond hair fell over his nose, curling at the ends a little and Obi-Wan realized that he would need to get his ward’s hair cut.

Whenever he could get them some credits again.

The Force only knew how that was going to happen without Obi-Wan scamming another gambling establishment. His mind went numb at the logistics of such a con and he felt another wave of exhaustion wash over him as he slumped backwards in his chair.

_I am so tired of all of this._

The running, the hiding, the anxiety-filled nights wondering when the Imperials were going to kick the door down and drag Luke away. His dreams were filled with fire and ash with peaceful sleep almost impossible to come by. Each time they left a planet, it was with someone chasing at their heels, the Empire, the Hutts.

Once they had been run off a space station because a doddering old battle droid from the Clone Wars had identified him.

A DROID, for stars’ sake!

Obi-Wan looked down at Luke’s peaceful face and felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. If the burden had been too much to bear before with Anakin, it was doubly worse with Luke. Not only did he have a duty to his slain Jedi brethren and the galaxy but…

This was Anakin’s child.

And he had failed Anakin.

He had even failed to save Padme.

Some Jedi he was.

The great and mighty Negotiator, High General of the Grand Army of the Republic, couldn’t even save one small woman from dying.

 _Failure…_ the Dark Side whispered. _Broken…_

Obi-Wan pulled out a small chronometer. He set the timer and started to stretch out the sore muscles of his shoulders and back. There were more twinges and pops than he was used to but he was able to settle into a comfortable meditation position on the floor and against the wall.

He counted his breaths, an endless repetition of one through ten.

_One._

In and out.

_Two._

In and out.

_Three._

_Four. Why am I having trouble now? I could have done this in my sleep before. Oh. Breathe._

In and out.

_What number was I on? Oh Kriff it! One._

In and out.

In and out.

In and….

* * *

 

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened to fire and ash.

“Mustafar…” he whispered, his voice rough and strangled in throat.

_Oh no… Not again! I can’t go through this again!_

“ANAKIN!” he shouted, looking around for his former Padawan. “Anakin, where are you?”

“No need to shout, Master,” Anakin was right behind him, his voice light and cheerful. Obi-Wan whirled around, his lightsaber already ignited. “Woah! Ease up old man! You need to cut back on the caf.”

Obi-Wan looked at his blade and the young man lit up in red by the lava surrounding them. The blade picked up the blue of Anakin’s eyes.

_This is not right._

“Where are we?” Obi-Wan asked, deactivating his blade but not returning it to its hook on his belt. He took a step or two away from Anakin, frowning at the too-close-for-comfort lava and the loose black gravel that led into it.

“Mustafar,” Anakin said, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes focused on the lava as well. “Where you left me to die.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as the pain of memory lanced through him, so strong it almost knocked him over. He staggered for a moment, one foot losing traction in the gravel.

Guilt, fear, and anger waged war in Obi-Wan’s heart as he turned back towards his heart’s brother. “What do you want with me? This cannot be real! Anakin Skywalker was destroyed by Darth Vader and the Emperor! Why am I here?”

Anakin’s mouth twitched as if Obi-Wan had just told him particularly hilarious joke. “You think I brought you here, Obi-Wan? Do you think **I** would want anything to do with this place?”

He was advancing on Obi-Wan now, the blue of his eyes burning away to green. Anakin’s voice grew louder and deeper, sounding older. Anakin’s voice had never been particularly deep but perhaps with time it would have matured into something more like what Obi-Wan heard.

“You remember, don’t you Master?” Anakin gestured with his left hand, covered in black leather when it shouldn’t have been. “You mutilated me and left me to die!”

Obi-Wan felt the heat of the lava through his boots and he looked back over his shoulder to see a river of molten rock bubbling and hissing. He turned back to Anakin and his heart stopped.

_Yellow eyes. Full of tears. He’s… crying?_

“You were my brother, Obi-Wan!” Anakin sobbed, his fists curled up in the cream folds of the older man’s robes. “You were supposed to stop me! To save me! Why didn’t you save me? Why did you do this to me?”

“I thought you loved me, Obi-Wan!”

The ground around them started to shiver and tremble, geysers of white hot lava exploding around them. Instinctively, they whirled together, back to back, taking stock of the situation around them.

Even in this horrible place, even at opposite ends of the spectrum, they were still one, moved as one, thought as one.

“We have to get out here,” Obi-Wan shouted over the roar of the growing shaking. “Where is the nearest ship?”

Anakin pointed to a distant shining ship, chrome and sleek. It was Padme’s cruiser.

“I see a path!” Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to shield them from a too-close spray of lava and turned to Anakin. “If we time it right, we can make to the ship safely. Ready?”

Obi-Wan reached out for Anakin’s hand and frowned when it met flesh instead of leather covered durasteel. He looked back at his friend and watched in horror as the fire started to crawl its way up the young man’s legs.

_No. Not again!_

“I’m scared, Master,” Anakin whispered, as he pulled his hand back. “I can’t go with you. I’m too afraid.”

The golden haired boy who looked so much like Luke curled both of his hands up in front of his chest and Obi-Wan could feel the Force swirling around him. He could sense Anakin was gearing up for something reckless and dangerous.

“Anakin, NO!” Obi-Wan shouted as Anakin pushed with the Force, sending the older man flying through the air, over razor sharp volcanic rocks. He crashed to the ground on the landing platform, pyroclastic fragments raining down on him as he struggled back to his feet. He shouted into the ash and fire, trying to get a last glimpse of his friend, of the person who meant more to him than the Order, more than his own life.

“ANAKIN!”

The moon was collapsing around him, a small figure wrapped in black and red, his eyes round and scared, blue again, so blue it hurt. The fire devoured him and with a twisting snap he was gone, swallowed up by a dragon made of flames and misery.

_He looks like Luke. Damnit! I have to tell him about Luke! He has a son!_

“You have a son! You have a child, Anakin!”

* * *

 

The chronometer was screaming at Obi-Wan, harsh and metallic as it buzzed on the table. The Jedi pulled himself upright and smacked the chrono with more malice than he intended, collapsing back into the chair he had left a few hours ago to ‘meditate’. He looked at the reading and groaned.

Oh-five hundred hours.

* * *

 

The morning had been a blur to Luke, who stood in line at the spaceport next to his father. He remembered being gently woken up, the grey light of dawn barely showing through the window. His father looked terrible and when Luke asked him what happened, he said that he was too nervous to sleep.

“I was worried we would miss our ship,” Obi-Wan said, a thin smile on his face.

After they packed away the last of their things into the battered grey pack, Luke followed his father out of the inn and across the street to the spaceport where they were standing in line behind at least ten other people. He peered down the line of passengers and noted there was a family with twin boys and a crying baby, a lone Rodian who seemed very engrossed in his data pad, a dark skinned couple that were yawning and holding a steaming cup and another family trio with a small child sleeping over the father’s shoulder. Luke sighed and looked up at his father, a little jealous that he couldn’t go back to sleep.

“Papa?” Luke asked, his voice soft, another yawn threatening to break free. “How come we’re up so early?”

“The port authority needs to review our paperwork before we leave,” Obi-Wan replied, looking down at the boy and squeezing his hand. “It won’t be long. You can sleep on the ship.”

Luke frowned and looked at the line in front of them. “Will there be enough room?”

Obi-Wan looked at the people in front of them and frowned. “I’m sure there will be plenty of room. Don’t worry Daigo.”

 _Oh. I almost forgot._ Luke yawned and shook his head, trying to shake the sleep out. _My name is Daigo Ogami and my father’s name is Ittou. We are going to Alderaan to meet our family and honor our ancestors._

Luke practiced the line in his head, over and over as they slowly shuffled towards the front of the line. He held onto his father’s hand, alternately swinging it back and forth and squeezing it as the line inched forward.

It took the family of five a Hutt’s age before they were cleared to board the small passenger vessel. The Rodian gave the man and woman examining papers a small problem when he didn’t seem to understand Basic. Luke groaned and went limp, hanging from his father’s hand and swinging in place.

“Hey! You there!” a clipped military voice rang out over the line of would-be passengers, chilling Obi-Wan to the bone. He and Luke looked back towards the gate of the spaceport and saw an imperial officer, followed by two stormtroopers. They turned back to the family in front of them, who looked pale and nervous. The husband took his wife’s hand as the Imperial Officer gestured wildly at them.

“You can’t let these people leave! Their papers are out of date!” the grey suited man said, jabbing a finger at the family. “This is a violation of Imperial Edict Number 749! They will have to wait until we can properly verify their identification from their home system.”

Obi-Wan’s face was a pleasant mask as he took stock of the situation in front of him. He could use the Force to convince the Officer to let the family continue on their adventure, drawing attention to himself and Luke or he could let them be drug through the wringer of paperwork and red-tape, possibly stranding them on this dusty little rock for days while they waited for the authorities on Bespin to get around to sending them new travel papers.

He knew what Obi-Wan Kenobi the Negotiator and Jedi Master would have done.

Itto Ogami was not that man and the imperial officer continued to berate the family, who stepped out of line. Obi-Wan and Luke stepped up and handed over their datapad with all of their information.

 _Now to see if this ID is worth the price we paid._ Obi-Wan thought as he smiled pleasantly at the woman looking over their information.

“Coruscant?” the woman asked, peering up at Obi-Wan. “How did you end up here?”

Obi-Wan’s voice was smooth and polished. “My family had a plantation on Dantooine. We fell upon hard times during the Clone Wars and now we’re making our way back to our extended family on Alderaan.”

“I heard about the droughts,” the woman said, flipping through the data files. “What’s your name little one?”

“Daigo…” Luke mumbled, peeking out from behind Obi-Wan’s leg. “I’m five.”

“Good to know!” she laughed, shaking her head. “I have two myself. One boy and a girl, ten and six. They’re adorable but a handful.”

“My wife wanted a daughter,” Obi-Wan murmured, his voice warm as he wove a thread of compulsion into his words. The Force gently encouraged her to feel full of sorrow for the widower before her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, handing back the datapad. “Kath hounds? We’ve heard about them, even in an out of the way place like Gingensu.”

Obi-Wan nodded, deciding that it was better to go with the pre-assembled lie. “It was a tragic accident. Daigo was only a six months old.”

Luke frowned and leaned into Obi-Wan’s leg and reminded himself to be quiet.

“Well thanks so much for visiting,” the port authority officer smiled, handing over a data chip that would serve as their ticket. “You take care of yourself, Daigo!”

Luke nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Obi-Wan smiled in thanks and turned towards the ship, freedom only ten feet away. They started walking as the Jedi and son willed their hearts to stop pounding frantically in their chests.

“You! Ogami! Stop!” the Imperial officer called out after them.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and wrapped himself in the soothing, calming presence of the Force. He and Luke turned around slowly, a mask of worried concern on both their faces. Obi-Wan spoke, his voice surprising himself with its level tone. “Yes Officer Steerbridge? Is something wrong?”

Steerbridge jogged over to them, his face serious. “I want you to know that your papers will expire in one standard month. There’s no Imperial embassy on Ord Mantell so you’ll need to travel to Mandalore or your home planet before your visa expires. Knowingly traveling on expired papers is a misdemeanor offense.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression solemn. “Yes, Officer Steerbridge. I understand. Thank you so much for telling me.”

“It’s very important that we serve as an example to those of...unfortunate birth,” the man replied, bowing his head a little as he turned on his heel and marched back to his protective storm troopers. “Have a safe flight!”

The Jedi exhaled and nodded, waving in thanks to the obsequious toad. “My thanks to you, Officer. Come along Daigo. Let’s find our seats.”

Obi-Wan and Luke turned around and walked toward the ship. The gang plank was lowered and Luke darted ahead, peering into the ship with delighted eyes. Obi-Wan followed after him, unable to keep a smile from his face as they passed into the durasteel and plastoid walls of the passenger ship.

One of the ship’s hands pointed them to the berth where they would be staying during the trip and Obi-Wan collapsed with exhaustion. Luke climbed up next to him, his legs swinging with delight. This was a new ship and he knew that once they were off planet and in hyperspace, he would be free to roam about their little corner and explore everything. Maybe Obi-Wan would even let him talk to the droids!

It took another half hour to board the rest of the passengers and do a final pre-flight check. All safety precautions accounted for the engines kicked to life and soon they were airborne, gliding over the dusty plains of Gingensu that quickly shrunk into the brown green blur of the western continent and then the planet itself. The world ocean was vivid blue as they flew farther and farther away.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling the tension wash out of him.

Finally, they were safe. For at least 24 hours, they were safe.

* * *

 

_You have a child! You have a son, Anakin!_

Darth Vader came out of his rest cycle, a frown behind the mask, his respirator wheezing. The heads-up display informed him that his heartbeat was irregularly fast and his breathing erratic. The suit took measures to regain optimum functioning as Vader stayed seated in his chair.

A dream.

Nothing more.

There was no Anakin Skywalker.

Vader had destroyed whatever Obi-Wan had missed on Mustafar.

There could not be an Anakin Skywalker. Vader would not allow it.

Padme was gone, the child of Skywalker a stillbirth in her belly.

It was just a dream.

And yet…

Vader wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all of your wonderful comments and kudos! I appreciate it so so much! It makes my whole week better and brighter. ^_^ 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter which might have a few grammar bumps and bruises since it originally started out at 12 pages. I wanted to make sure I got this up today and only asked The Editor for a half-speed edit, as opposed to the line-by-line one I usually ask for. She graciously agreed and I really cannot thank her enough. Everything that is good and awesome in my work is usually attributed to her.
> 
> I also want to thank Theatre_Phoenix who has been a wonderful an amazing commenter since the beginning of this lovely adventure with Obi-Wan and his portable bundle of adorableness. 
> 
> As always, you can reach me at my tumblr: [Firefly Fish](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com)


	6. Ord Mantell

The ride to Ord Mantell was smooth and blissfully uneventful. Obi-Wan settled into their berth and watched Luke run around the ship, just another energetic child in love with space travel.

After the first hour or so, Luke grew tired of poking at walls, examining relays, and marveling at the crew, who walked through the passenger area with a cool confidence. He made his way back to his father, climbing up next to him and letting out a happy sigh.

Luke loved space.

“Seen everything you wanted to see?” Obi-Wan asked him, tucking an arm around his ward and pulling him closer.

Luke nodded, leaning into his father. “Papa? How much does a ship cost?”

Obi-Wan gave the matter some thought. “Big enough for us? Perhaps fifty thousand credits. Why?”

“I just… I wish we had our own ship,” the boy shrugged. “Then we could spend all of our time in space!”

The Jedi nodded. “We could indeed. Would you be the pilot?”

“When I grow up!” Luke said, a smile breaking out. “Is it really hard to fly a ship?”

“Well… General Skywalker blew up that droid command ship when he was only 9 years old,” Obi-Wan teased, ruffling Luke’s hair. “Do you think you could do that in four years?”

“I’ll do it in three!” the boy decided. “What about Papa? When did you learn how to fly?”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I’ll tell you later, Daigo. Are you hungry?”

_Oh. I’m still Daigo._ I forgot. Luke blinked. “Yes, Papa. What’s for breakfast?”

Breakfast was some scrambled eggs rolled up with sauted vegetables in a thin, flat bread. The spices were just enough to warm the lips and Luke ate two. Conscious of how little money they had, Obi-Wan went without.

After breakfast, Luke started to yawn, their early start catching up to him. He wiggled under Obi-Wan’s arm and laid his head on the Jedi’s leg. His father reached out to stroke his hair, pulling the golden locks away from his neck.

“Rest, little one,” Obi-Wan murmured, his voice low and gentle, lulling Luke deeper into sleep, and soon the boy was snoring softly.

Another half hour passed and even Obi-Wan had to give into the exhaustion he had held too long at bay. He dimmed the lights in their berth and pulled the curtain shut. After rearranging Luke to where they were both comfortable, the Jedi let out a breath he had been holding since they crash landed and closed his eyes.

Sleep took him almost immediately.

* * *

 

_Have you trained the boy?_

**Yes, Master, and I failed.**

_Have you?_

**Didn’t I? Anakin is lost to the dark side and the Jedi are all gone.**

_All of them?_

* * *

 

Obi-Wan woke up later, exhausted and disoriented. He felt around for his chrono before remembering it was packed away in their bag. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck and sending a few small tendrils of the Force to soothe the dull throbbing that was threatening to turn into a full blown headache. He pulled back the curtain and turned to place his boots on the floor, centering himself in the here and now.

How long had he been out?

Where was Luke?

Panic gripped Obi-Wan as he looked around the berth before stepping out into the hallway. The family from Gingensu was chattering happily, all five of them, and there were loud snores from the Rodian’s bunk. Other passengers meandered up and down the hallway, having quiet conversations or tucking into homemade meals.

There was no sign of Luke.

“Sithspit!” Obi-Wan muttered, grabbing his pack and heading towards the far bulkhead. He tried to ignore every horrible and paranoia inducing possibility that sprung up in his mind. The Jedi surreptitiously checked in each and every bunk, using skills he hadn’t needed since the Clone Wars. It was easy enough to fall back into that mindset, even comforting, as his heart thundered in his chest.

He had a mission and a target and he needed to block everything out until he found Luke.

His eyes darted from each clutch of sentients, checking them off his list with martial precision. The former general moved through the crowd with unspoken authority, attracting a few curious looks and a respectful nod from a pair of veterans. They instinctively understood Obi-Wan to be someone they would have saluted six years ago.

_Where is that boy?_ He came to the far bulkhead and let out a colorful Huttese curse, realizing he would have to reach out with the Force to find his missing boy.

**Luke….** Obi-Wan took a deep breath and stretched himself out, the dammed up river of his spirit cascading free and rushing through the corridors of the ship. His fear and worry frothed the edges of his Force presence and it swirled around sentients and droids alike as he searched for his boy.

**Luke! Answer me!** His call grew stronger as the white river of Obi-Wan’s Force presence surged through a storage room, a small med bay and the crew bunks. There was a clutch of young men, laughing and cheering over something, the Force crackling as his awareness passed over them. He sensed a Wookie and another creature he couldn’t identify, his panic starting to give way to anger.

Where the hell was his son?

**Papa! Papa! Herehere!Uphere!** Luke’s spirit touched Obi-Wan’s, his joy and delight washing over the older man like the sweet cool breeze of a summer’s evening. Luke was in the cockpit and Obi-Wan loped off to reclaim him before anyone asked why he was standing in the middle of the hallway waving his hand around with his eyes closed.

“Daigo?” Obi-Wan called out as he rushed into the narrow hallway that led to the cockpit. “Oh, thank the stars! Daigo! What are you doing here?”

He turned to the large alien Luke sat next to. Breathless, and without waiting for Luke’s answer, he added, “I am so sorry, Captain.”

A torrent of apologies spilled from the Jedi’s lips as Luke darted over to him and was immediately hoisted up onto Obi-Wan’s hip. The father bowed to the alien, who was a jovial looking besalisk working the controls with three of his four arms.

“It’s nothing,” the captain said, grooming his black mustache as he worked. “Little Daigo and I were learning about flying a starship, weren’t we, boy?”

Luke nodded with enthusiastic glee. “Captain Elldor fought in the Clone Wars! He was a pilot!”

“Oh, really?” Obi-Wan felt his gut turn to permacrete and his heart stopped. It was only years of training that kept the pleasantly bland facade of Itto Ogami in place. “If I might ask, whom did you fly with?”

“Oh I wasn’t in the Grand Army,” Elldor laughed, a good, warm sound that rolled around the cockpit and invited Obi-Wan to join in on the fun. “I flew medical supplies and relief missions for the Civilian Care Corps! But I’ve seen things that would turn your hair white, young Daigo.”

Oh, thank the Force… Obi-Wan leaned back against the door frame and let his weak chuckle join with Luke and Elldor’s. He held Luke close, relieved to have found him relatively quickly. “Where did you fly?”

“All over!” the captain mused, counting through his list with two of his hands. “Ryloth, Rodia, a mission to a planet with a bunch of wee furry people, Iego, Kashyyyk... I met my lady wife on Kashyyyk, you know. She was in the corps too! Worked as an mechanic and her boss was furious when she transferred to my ship. Ohoho! Never piss off a Helsavky matriarch, my young friend! They’ll never forget it.”

Luke promised not to and squirmed to be let out of Obi-Wan’s almost-death grip. The Jedi set the boy down and watched him dart back up to the co-pilot’s seat. Luke began asking about each and every lever and dial, Elldor happily explaining it all to him, in between telling colorful stories about his adventures during the Clone Wars.

Obi-Wan frowned, unsure of what to do. The part of him that had panicked wanted to drag Luke back to their berth, shout at him for a solid hour about running off without permission and then wrap him up tight and never let him out of his sight again.

The memory of Qui-Gon Jinn urged patience and understanding, noting that Anakin had done this many times before and shouting at Luke would only upset the young boy.

“Take a seat Ogami,” the captain said, gesturing with a hand. “I’ll have the Missus bring up some caf. Daigo here tells me you’re heading to Alderaan, eh?”

Obi-Wan nodded, collapsing onto the navigator’s seat behind Luke. “Ah...yes. To visit our extended family.”

“Lovely place, Alderaan,” Elldor chuckled and turned to Luke. “Let me tell you about the time me and the Missus fought off a whole crew of ferocious Mandalorians on our honeymoon in the great mountains of Alderaan.”

Luke’s eyes were round with delight as he listened. The Missus appeared a few minutes into the story, just as Captain Elldor was well and truly insulting the head of the Mandalorians. She handed Obi-Wan a cup of caf and brought some cocoa and mallow puffs for Luke, who was enthralled. The Jedi wondered if General Skywalker had been replaced in Luke’s affection by this roguish besalisk.

“Oh, there were ten, no, twenty of ‘em!” Elldor chuckled as he turned his cheek for a kiss from his wife. “Hello dear. I was just telling the lad about the army of Mandalorians we faced down on Alderaan.”

“Were you?” the Missus asked, patting his arm and smiling at Luke. “Don’t forget to mention how I jammed up their engine.”

“You did?” Luke positively glowed with delight in the Force.

The Missus winked and patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder as she walked out.

“Now where was I?” the Captain inhaled, warming up for a truly adventurous and one-hundred percent accurate account of his single-handed defeat of the entire Mandalorian army in the Icefang Mountains of Alderaan.

Obi-Wan chuckled to himself and wondered what Satine would think of the story. He decided that she would get a nice laugh out of it and the preposterously large, and growing by the minute, attack squadrons being sent after a poor, “helpless” ship’s captain.

Perhaps I will take him to Mandalore and tell him your story one day. Obi-Wan looked down at his caf, letting go of the thread of the conversation for a little bit. We could have all stood to learn more from you, Satine.

* * *

 

Luke and Obi-Wan were in the cockpit when they came back into realspace, a bright blue star in the distance. The boy was hooked, sitting up on his knees so he could see over the dashboard as the freighter took an arcing path around the sparkling blue giant.

“There she is,” Elldor said, a smile in his voice as he worked over the board. “The Bright Jewel herself. Almost as pretty as the Missus.”

Luke had never seen a blue giant before. He looked back at his father to see if he was as impressed as Luke was. His father’s eyes were narrowed and Luke could tell he was deep in thought. He wondered if this meant General Skywalker had an adventure here. He would ask his father later when he didn’t have to be Daigo anymore.

“How soon until we reach the planet?” Obi-Wan asked as he stood up and stretched out his back.

_Ow! I am not getting any younger, am I?_

“Half an hour,” the captain said, tapping the ship’s chronometer. “And the local time is oh-eight-hundred. There should be plenty of time for you to catch a ship to Coruscant and then on to Alderaan.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Thank you for your kindness, Captain Elldor. You have been more than generous to us. I only wish we had a way to repay your kindness.”

Luke held open his arms for a hug and the Captain happily obliged, picking the boy up even as he continued to pilot the ship. “Think nothing of it, my boys! It is my sworn duty as a captain to help usher in the next generation of pilots. You take care of yourself now, little Daigo Ogami! I expect to hear great things about you in the years to come.”

Luke grinned and saluted as he took Obi-Wan’s hand. “I’m gonna be the greatest star pilot ever!”

The besalisk laughed and nodded. “I believe it my boy. You have the makings of greatness! You remind me of someone I met in the GAR once… Now what was his name?”

Obi-Wan smiled down at Luke and straightened the straw-colored mess he’d made of his hair, letting the boy enjoy his parting with the kindly pilot. There was so much distrust and suspicion in the galaxy these days that he felt it better to let Luke linger and realize that not everyone was a bounty hunter trying to kill them.

“Sky...hopper? Flyer? Skywalker! That was it!” Elldor laughed, slapping the arm of his chair. “Helped us run a mission to Ord Mantell and he flew like a devil! Never seen a human with skills like that before.”

_Of course he’s met Anakin._ Obi-Wan groaned behind his shields and kept his smile plastered on his face.

“General Skywalker?” Luke’s face lit up. “Really?”

_Oh...stang!_ Obi-Wan looked down at Luke, whose young face was lit from within at the mere idea of being as talented as the legendary general.

He wanted to yank Luke out of the clutches of Captain Elldor but as that would seemed odd and drawn too much attention to them. It was better to play along.

“Do you hear that, Daigo?” Obi-Wan said, a pitch perfect imitation of a flattered father. “You had better work extra hard or you’ll disappoint Captain Elldor.”

_Maybe Elldor is a Sith? Or a spy? No one that charming could just randomly throw Anakin’s name out like that. The Force is not **that** mysterious._

_Or I could just be paranoid. We were all over the Holonet. Perhaps I should lose the beard._

“You work hard, little one, and I’ll be telling my grandkids I knew you when you were knee high to a wookie!” Elldor laughed again, waving to the two as they left the cockpit and headed back to the passenger area. They returned to their berth and Luke proceeded to recite everything he had learned about interstellar space flight, complete with sound effects and a small show of hand motions.

“And then the doors go WOOSH! and then we go outside!” Luke finished his explanation of docking and disembarking with a triumphant grin, looking up at his father. “Just like that.”

“Well thank you for the thorough explanation,” Obi-Wan said, chuckling a little as the telltale hum of the engines faded away and there was a growing feeling of weight and stability and then a low, heavy groan that rattled through the whole ship. Luke hopped off the chair and looked up at the ceiling.

“We’ve landed,” the older man said, standing up and hoisting his pack over his shoulder. “Come on, little one. It’s time to leave.”

Luke reached up to take his father’s hand and the two merged into the flow of people heading towards the airlock.

* * *

 

They disembarked without incident and headed toward the departure board. There were several flights departing that day: Coruscant, Mandalore, Corellia, and Taris were on the board, as well as a long-haul freighter that would eventually make it to Tatooine. None of these places would be particularly friendly to Obi-Wan and he definitely did not have the credits for a long stay on this remote pink planet.

They needed a way off and fast, before the Hutts caught up to them or, even worse, the Empire.

Luke tagged along after Obi-Wan, who started looking for work. He went from ship to ship, growing increasingly worried as captain after captain turned him down. There were a few that were willing to take on Obi-Wan but not Luke and there were more than a few who took one look at the pair and shook their heads.

Lunch came and went and Obi-wan purchased a small sandwich for Luke, who tore into it with famished gusto, smearing sauce all over his face. He smiled up at his father, who used the paper napkin to clean him up before they headed deeper into the city, looking for a place to stay overnight that wouldn’t completely bankrupt them, but wouldn’t make them a target for thieves or gangs either.

As they passed under the bright neon lights of the more upscale hotels and residences, Luke tried to dart off every now and then, mesmerized by everything. He wanted to watch a pod race and then a dueling match broadcast from somewhere out in the Outer Rim. There was a clutch of small, armored mammals being sold at a stall that Luke just had to have and then another store was selling treats.

Obi-Wan prayed to the Force for patience.

“Ooo! What’s that?” Luke asked as they came to a large central square where more booths had sprung up around a tall statue of a stately looking gentleman, his arms out and welcoming and his face far more generous and open than Obi-Wan could have ever recalled it being in person.

“That is the Emperor,” Obi-Wan murmured, a shiver running down his spine. He would not say the man’s name or give him any more thought than he absolutely had to. He reached down to Luke and picked him back up. “Come. We need to find a place to stay.”

Day slowly gave way to the growing violet dusk and Obi-Wan was starting to think they were never going to find a place that wasn’t lit up like a new cantina on Nal Hutta or too shady for even Hondo Onaka. Luke had been patient for most of the day, but even he had his limits and the boy had trouble keeping up with his father as the day wound down.

Obi-Wan picked him up and held him against his chest, augmenting his strength with the Force, which felt wild and choppy here, full of a myriad of beings from all over the galaxy.

It was hard to follow the will of the Living Force, but by sundown, an exhausted and desperate Obi-Wan followed the faintest call into a quiet cantina that was just off the central square.

The cantina stood in the shadow of Palpatine’s statue and Obi-Wan felt his skin crawl as they passed through it. Once inside, he made his way to the bar and gently deposited Luke there. The bartender raised an eye at the exhausted father and son but said nothing, merely sliding a bowl of salted snacks to the boy and handing Obi-Wan a shot of Corellian whisky.

Obi-Wan downed it in one shot.

“Where are you from, friend?” the tall, dark bartender asked as he poured another, impressed by the worse-for-wear man before him.

“Coruscant,” the Jedi replied, reciting his lie with real exhaustion this time. “My family plantation on Dantooine failed and we’re heading to Alderaan to meet our family and honor the ancestors.”

“Sounds bad,” the dark man sighed, shaking his head. “No mother for the boy?”

“Dead,” Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to forget the sight of a pale, too pale, corpse. “Kath hounds.”

“Staaaang!” the bartender grimaced and shook his head. “What brings you to Ord Mantell?”

“Ship died before we could make it back to the Core,” Obi-Wan exhaled and looked at Luke, who was blissfully mesmerized by some kind of sporting event on a holoscreen. “Actually, it crashed. Nearly killed us both.”

“Bad luck, my friend,” the bartender shook his head. “What’s your hustle to get home?”

Obi-Wan looked up at the imposing dark man before him and let Ogami’s mask slip for a moment, revealing the cold grey eyes of a desperate and lethal man running for his life. Someone who would do anything to protect his son and didn’t like too many questions. “I don’t hustle.”

The bartender looked down at the steely eyed man before him, his own umber eyes narrowed for a long moment and then he nodded over at Luke. “I hear you. What’s his name?”

“Daigo,” Obi-Wan replied and downed his second shot of whisky. “Itto Ogami, at your service.”

“Resk Temli’on.”

The exhausted Jedi gave a mock bow of his head and twirl of his hand before sitting back up a little and looking around. The patrons were quiet and seemed to keep to themselves, seated in clutches of twos or threes with a few individuals scattered around the room.

This was a place that asked no questions and demanded no answers. The Jedi liked that.

“What can I get you, little Daigo?” the bartender asked, leaning over to greet the young boy, who shook his hand enthusiastically. Luke asked for a slider and mashed tubers, which Resk plugged into the food droid. The bartender then came back with some blue bantha milk and looked at Obi-Wan, his mouth pulled into a smile. “Want some food to go with that whiskey?”

“I’ll have whatever he doesn’t finish,” Obi-Wan sighed, using his Jedi training to blot out the hunger pains that growled insistently.

“Uh huh,” Resk said, shaking his head as he walked back to the kitchen. There was blissful silence again as Luke continued to watch the tournament on screen and the regulars chatted quietly to each other. The door opened and Obi-Wan paid it no mind, staring down at his whisky glass and bleakly wondering where they were going to stay that evening.

The newest customer sat down next to Obi-Wan and ordered some spiced Tarisian ale, taking a long sip before he let out a happy sigh.

The Jedi on his left was so deep in thought he didn’t notice the man next to him give him a long, hard look before turning to the bartender and asking for the quiet traveler’s story.

“He’s traveling to Alderaan,” Resk replied, filling another drink order and handing it to a serving droid. “Meeting family and ancestors or something like that.”

“Honoring ancestors,” Obi-Wan corrected, his voice exhausted. “We’re hoping to be reunited with our kin.”

_Why do I even bother?_

The young man turned to Obi-Wan, his dark blue eyes narrowed under a shock of white hair. His head was tilted to the side but the Jedi could tell he was sizing him up and trying to place Obi-Wan in the proper context.

His hand twitched towards his lightsaber, hidden in its protective pouch.

“What is your name, friend?” the newcomer asked, his voice low and quiet.

“Ogami,” Obi-Wan replied, his grey eyes locked on the stranger’s.

“Ah! Ogami!” the stranger’s face lit up and he clapped a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, an exaggerated showing of surprise and delight, telegraphed enough so that the Jedi could see what was coming. Whoever the stranger was, he was used to dealing with warriors and their hair-trigger reactions. “I have been to Alderaan and your kin treated me well there! What are the chances we would meet here on Ord Mantell?”

Obi-Wan blinked at the stranger, not quite sure that he heard the stranger correctly.

Had he really said that? Did the stranger know Obi-Wan?

It was then the Jedi realized that there was something familiar about this white-haired young man and the lock of blue that fell just so over his brow. “What are the chances, indeed...”

“I guess the Force works in mysterious ways,” the stranger smiled, turning back to his spiced ale. “Resk! Get my friend something to eat and put it on my tab.”

Obi-Wan watched and waited until the commotion of the order had died down and everyone else turned back to their own interests. He leaned against the bar and waited for the other shoe to drop.

The stranger finished his ale and turned to the father and son, his voice low once more. “So… what brings Obi-Wan Kenobi and his son to Ord Mantell? And how much am I going to regret getting the two of you off this pink planet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back from a convention and a nasty head cold which delayed the editing of this chapter. I hope everyone enjoys it! 
> 
> Thank you again for all of your lovely comments and kudos! I know that every author says that but I don't mean it any less. #^_^# I am always so happy to receive any kind word or thought readers send to me and I just want you to know I appreciate it. 
> 
> This chapter's commenter shout out goes to Fromthedeepsea for her kind and lovely words. I hope this chapter helps meet your daily cuteness quota! 
> 
> I also want to make a special thank you to Jilyandbambi for her AMAZINGLY and WONDERFULLY long comment! You are too, too kind and you made tough sick day one million times better!
> 
> As always, you can bother me on my tumblr at [Firefly Fish](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com) where you will find some writing updates, Star Wars fun and waaaaay too many pictures of Ewan McGregor because it's what all the cool kids are doing.


	7. Reprieve

Obi-Wan had lost his mind.

Surely that was the only explanation for what was happening.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he said, his silver tongue failing him as he tried to reorient a world which, up until this moment, had been ruled by his feral survival instinct. There was little need for polite language and the manners of civilization when fending off bounty hunters or telling stories to a five-year-old about a father he would never meet. “What did you say?”

“What brings Obi-Wan Kenobi and his son to Ord Mantell?” the white-haired young man asked again, sipping his Tarisian ale and popping a salted bar snack into his mouth. “When was the last time I saw you? Five, six years ago? I know it was before Empire Day, right? I dropped you off at Coruscant, if I remember correctly.”

Obi-Wan frowned, his brow knit together as he searched through his memories of the Clone Wars, trying in vain to remember this distinctive pilot with a silver falcon patch on his sleeve.

_“I always wanted to meet a Jedi but this was not how I envisioned it happening!” the young man shouted as he pulled his ship into a hard left turn, sensors screaming. “Don’t just stand there looking pretty! Get on the guns!”_

_“I thought you said this ship was clean!” Obi-Wan shouted over the piercing shriek of the ship’s warning system. He ran to the gun turrets. “Why are they shooting at us?”_

_“Because they don’t like Jedi and you just had to start waving that lightsaber around!” the pilot, Tenk, grunted as he fired off a few rounds from the rear weapons array. “I need two minutes to calculate the jump to lightspeed!”_

_“You’ve got one!” Obi-Wan retorted, the Force surging around him as he took aim on the closest ship firing on them. They were going to need all the help they could get._

“Tenk?” Obi-Wan murmured, his eyes round with shock. “Is it possible? How… Why are you here?”

“Delivering a package to a client,” the man grinned, the blue streak in his hair falling over his nose before combed it back out of the way. “But the question is, what are you doing here?”

“One set of sliders and mashed tubers for you,” Resk, the bartender interrupted, placing the hot plate of food in front of Luke, who greedily tucked into it. “You sure you don’t want anything, Itto?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Nothing, thank you.”

Tenk arched an eyebrow and turned to the dark-skinned man. “That looks delicious, Resk. Can I get a plate?”

“Sure,” the bartender nodded. “How’s the Missus?”

“Working,” Tenk smiled. “I’ll let her know you asked for her.”

“She’s too good for you, mate,” Resk laughed, the wide smile making him look friendly and far more approachable. He headed back to the kitchen, leaving Tenk and Obi-Wan to get reaquainted in private.

“You’re married?” Obi-Wan asked, his memory quickly returning. “I thought you were running away from a marriage.”

Tenk chuckled. “An arranged engagement but close. Anyway, enough about me. Who is this?”

The two men looked over at Luke, who was making a terrible mess of his meal while somehow keeping most of it on the plate. Obi-Wan let out a sigh of resignation and intervened, cutting the sandwich into smaller pieces, stealing a bite for himself that only cruelly teased his hollow stomach.

Luke smiled up at his father, who wiped off the boy’s mouth and cheeks clean with a napkin.

“This is my son,” Obi-Wan finally answered, his voice low and eyes insistent. “And we are… presently at an impasse.”

Tenk thanked Resk when he brought over the plate of food. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and cut the sandwich in half, pushing the plate between the pilot and the Jedi. “I can hear your stomach growling. Eat.”

Obi-Wan was not used to taking orders but his stomach would brook no more punishment and he gingerly picked up the slider, taking a bite. It was not the best food he had ever eaten, but it was damn close and he was _starving_.

“So… about this impasse?” Tenk asked, biting into his food and pretending to observe the many brightly colored liquor bottles on the shelves behind the counter. “Does it involve Hutts?”

“Not at the present moment.”

“Pirates?”

“None that I am aware of.”

“Seppies?”

“I do not think there are any of them left,” Obi-Wan observed, his voice cool as he looked over at his acquaintance.

“Imps?” Tenk murmured, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Obi-Wan nodded briefly. “I am... less than popular with the current galactic administration.”

The pilot nodded as he took another sip of his spiced ale. “Where are you headed?”

“Anywhere but the Core,” Obi-Wan answered truthfully.

Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly sure why he was trusting this long-lost friend from times gone by. He had spent two weeks with Tenk, running a Separatist blockade to recover stolen plans for a new Republic weapon that ended up never being built. Their ship had been damaged in the escape and they had spent the rest of the time limping back to the Galactic center, avoiding pirates, smugglers and making more than a few shady deals for the parts necessary to repair the hyperdrive and communications array.

The Tenk he remembered had been a good man, honest and fair, but that was before the Empire and these new dark times. He had seen more than his fair share of “good men” turn cruel and selfish after the birth of Palpatine’s new order.

Obi-Wan worried that this allegedly chance meeting might be the set-up for a trap.

“Anywhere but the Core?” Tenk pondered this bit of information before he called Resk over and paid for both his bill and Obi-Wan’s. The Jedi protested but Tenk would not hear of it. He did allow the older man to promise to pay him back, however.

“Sure,” the pilot laughed as they walked into the growing dusk, looking at his chronometer on his wrist. “Whenever you manage to swindle some unwitting nerf in a game of Sabacc.”

“I do not swindle,” Obi-Wan sniffed, standing up straighter. “Really, Tenk! Must you impugn my honor in front of my son?”

“Papa? What does impyoon mean?” Luke asked, happily resting against his father’s shoulder as he carried them through the neon cacophony of Ord Mantell at night. “Where are we going?”

“To my ship,” Tenk grinned at the young boy watching him. “I’m Tenk Sunrunner. What’s your name?”

Luke opened his mouth to tell the strange white-haired man that his name was Daigo but his father shook his head.

“Not here,” Obi-Wan said and the tone in his voice brooked no argument.

“Whenever you’re ready, then,” Tenk shrugged and led them back to the main spaceport where his ship was presently docked.

It was a beauty, with elegant curves joined to strong angles that were growing more popular as tastes in shipbuilding shifted away from the sensuous lines of the late Republic to the new ‘Empire’ style.

For Luke, it was love at first sight.

“Wow! What’s it called? How fast can it go? How many guns does it have? Can I fly it? Pleeease?” Questions poured out of Luke and he tugged on his father’s sleeve to let him down so he could go see the ship. “Papa! Down! I wanna see!”

Tenk grinned and walked over to the datapad by the door, his fingers flying over the keys. “Her name is _Horizon_ and she is a top of the line ZK-1078 from the Corellian shipyards.”

Obi-wan finally relented and set Luke down on the ground, cautioning him to not touch anything. “A ship is not a toy!”

Tenk pulled out the datapad and the lights in the hangar flickered to life as he walked over to Obi-Wan and patted him on the back. “It’s okay. A boy never forgets his first pretty ship. Hey! Kid! You want to go inside?”

Luke’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “We can? Papa? Can I go inside?”

Obi-Wan nodded, shifting his bag onto his left shoulder. “How did you pay for this?”

“Courier work,” Tenk explained, lowering the ramp and bending over to walk up into the ship. “Watch your head.”

Luke had already darted onboard, asking a million questions a minute, and Obi-Wan hurried after both of them, feeling the need to take control of his ward and the situation.

Obi-Wan stepped into a round central space that was split down the middle by closed blast doors. Against the central supporting column was a curved bench with a small portable work table set in front of it. Magnetic locks held the legs of the table to the ground and there was a small red, wooden lacquered box sitting on top of it. Tenk picked up the box and tucked it under some rigging and turned left, following the curve of the ship through a bulkhead and into a rounded hallway that lead to the cockpit. To the right was the hold and a pile of storage lockers, lashed down for travel. Obi-Wan imagined that the living quarters were in the other half of the circle.

“Tenk, I think a discussion is in order before we make any rash decisions,” the Jedi called after the ship’s captain. “Luke! Don’t touch that!”

Luke frowned and put down a small soldering iron, looking up at his father. “I’m sorry, Papa. It’s just… it’s a ship! And it’s new and pretty! Can we buy a ship like this? We can name it after Mama!”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and reminded himself that Luke was only five years old and that he was not to be blamed for his excitement. He was Anakin’s son and there wasn’t a flight-capable hunk of junk in the galaxy that the father hadn’t exclaimed over when he was a Padawan.

Obi-Wan set his pack down on the bench behind a small work table, that was covered in soft leather, charcoal leather. Besides the forgotten soldering iron it was a very tidy ship as far as he could tell.

“Tenk?” The Jedi wondered where the man-- his long-lost “friend”?-- had gotten off to.

And what all “courier work” entailed.

“Sorry!” Tenk walked in from a side hallway that suddenly blossomed to life with lights. “I had to turn the ship on. We’re going to need to make a quick departure.”

“What? Why?” Obi-Wan frowned at the nervous anxiety swirling around the ship’s captain. “You haven’t even asked about our… impasse.”

“I’m sure it involves Jedi business and saving the galaxy,” Tenk smiled, slipping past Luke to flip a few switches, waking the rest of the ship as he picked up a few crates and locked them back into place. “And I will be happy to hear all about it but I’m going to be late for an important pick up. So strap in.”

“Can I sit in the cockpit?” Luke asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Sure!” Tenk laughed. “Just hurry up there and strap in. You too, Obi-Wan. This is going to be quick and dirty.”

The Force was unsettled, twisting and taut around them all, like the strings of a lyre pulled too tight. Luke was oblivious and ran to the cockpit before Obi-Wan could stop him. The Jedi grit his teeth and tried to still the anger flaring to life in his gut.

He did not like this _at all_.

“Do you mind if I stow this?” Tenk picked up Obi-Wan’s pack and locked it into a bay above the leather bench saluted the Jedi, who was still not strapping in. “C’mon General Kenobi! Trust me.”

And with that less than impressive appeal, the young man ran up to the front of the ship. “And kriffing buckle up already! We’re taking off in two minutes!”

“Two minutes?!” Obi-Wan shouted, whirling around. “Why in all the Sith hells are we taking off in two minutes?”

“I’m late!” Tenk’s voice cracked to life over the speaker. “Now for the last time, strap in or I am not responsible for any broken bones!”

The engines roared to life and the entire ship started to hum and vibrate, the soldering iron Luke had played with bouncing and crashing to the floor.

Obi-Wan felt the warning in the Force and flung himself into a nearby chair just as the thrusters kicked in. He locked the restraints into place and grit his teeth as the lunatic at the stick yanked the ship up into the sky and spun it around.

There was a still, pregnant moment as if the Force and Obi-Wan were both holding their breath before the ship jumped forward with a roar of engines. One of the smaller storage boxes flew free, spilling its contents across the floor as the ship accelerated.

“I… hate… flying!” Obi-Wan growled as gravity tried to pull him back to Ord Mantell’s surface by his teeth. He could sense Luke’s complete euphoria as the ship climbed higher and higher into the atmosphere.

With a great sigh the _Horizon_ broke free of the planet’s gravity well and they were streaking into the stars again, climbing up until the atmospheric warning sensors shut down and the artificial gravity kicked into gear.

The Jedi let out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. _This man flies like Anakin. I can only imagine how much he would have enjoyed that take off._

“General?” Tenk asked over the com. “Are you okay back there?”

“Papa?” Luke’s voice crackled through the speakers, worried and contrite. “I’m sorry I ran off, Papa.”

Obi-Wan shook his head and undid his safety harness. He stood up and kicked a few loose pieces of electronics back towards the work bench, rattled and on edge. “I’m fine. Really. But was all of that truly necessary?”

The door to the bridge opened with a hiss as Luke ran over to his father and hugged his leg. He was full of joy and his eyes shone in the yellow light of the work area. “Papa! We took off and went up and up and there were mountains and they were so small! And I saw space!”

Obi-Wan nodded, patting Luke’s head. “Did you now?”

Luke’s grin punctured the thunderstorm of his father’s anger. “It was just like General Skywalker!”

“Skywalker, eh?” Tenk chuckled from the doorway. “That’s high praise coming from a Kenobi. It’s Luke, right?”

The boy nodded with pride. “Luke Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment and ignored the voice in his gut that called him a liar.

_It is safer this way. I cannot trust anyone with his true parentage._

“Well, Luke Kenobi,” Tenk grinned, as he walked over to the father and son. “Why don’t you and Old Man Kenobi come join me in the front?”

“Can we Papa?” Luke asked, whirling around, his hands curled into tiny delighted fists. “Please? I wanna help push the buttons again!”

“What buttons?” Obi-Wan frowned, suspicious. “And where are you taking us?”

“Anobis. It shouldn’t take us very long. We’ll make the pick-up and then we can be off.”

“What about this disarray?” Obi-Wan gestured to the bits and pieces scattered on the floor, the metal tubes rattling against the bulkheads. There was something about them that was bothering the Jedi but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He reached out to touch the Force and received nothing but a quiet hum. Luke was already back up in the cockpit, his joy palpable, and Tenk was walking back to join him.

“It’ll be fine,” Tenk assured his old friend from over his shoulder. “I’ll clean it up after we make the pick up.”

Obi-Wan nodded, still unsure. Beyond his anxiety at the strange nature of the evening thus far, he was a naturally tidy person. He hated the thought of leaving what was clearly a busy work area messy with slippery scattered parts on the ground.

Anakin used to leave bits and pieces of his droids and customized parts all over their suite of rooms back when he was a Padawan and the Jedi Master damn near broke his neck several times walking across the room in the night when he went to the kitchenette for a glass of water.

It had been particularly bad when Anakin was working on his first lightsaber. He had found little bits and pieces of wires and solder in the hem of his robes for weeks afterwards.

_That’s an odd thing to remember._

Obi-Wan knelt down to pick up the soldering iron that had rolled under the workbench. He looked at it, frowning as his hands ran over the grooves of the handle. It was an old one, well taken care of and aside from the bumpy take-off, it was in good working order. He turned it over in his hand and then noticed a piece of tape obscuring an engraving on the rounded bottom.

Curious, Obi-Wan picked at the tape and as he peeled it away, he was stunned to see the engraved insignia of the Jedi Temple.

He looked back at the scattered parts on the floor, quickly picking out all the necessary components for making a lightsaber. All that was missing were the necessary crystals and an attachment for a belt hook.

The Force hummed around the small red box set free by the take-off and he hurried over to it, plucking it off the floor and flipping it open, horrified to discover that it contained focusing crystals for lightsabers.

Obi-Wan felt a deep anger ignite in his gut, snapping the box shut.

He picked up another box, yanking it open and finding a perfectly crafted lightsaber, practically brand new and luminous in the Force.

A Jedi had used this blade. And recently from the warmth in the Force wrapped around it.

Obi-Wan activated the blade and it hummed to life, bright blue and pure. He shut it off, tossing the box to the bench by the worktable and turned slowly toward the hallway that led to the cockpit.

Where Luke was.

“Hey!” Tenk loped back into the work area. “What’s taking you so long… What’s wrong?”

Obi-Wan took one step forward, lowering into an aggressive stance. He clutched the lightsaber in his hand like the bloody rags of his murdered comrades. The Force crackled and flared around him, a stormy sea looking to drown the room. “Why do you have this, Tenk?”

“What?” The pilot looked confused, his indigo eyes darting to the lightsaber and back to Obi-Wan. “Where did you get that?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Obi-Wan hissed, heat blossoming in his chest and spreading outward. “This is a lightsaber! It belongs to a Jedi! How did you find this?”

Tenk backed up slowly, giving up two steps for every one Obi-Wan advanced. He held up his hands. “Okay, calm down! I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”

The planet proximity alarm let out a high pitched warning shriek and Tenk let out a loud groan. “I will tell you in ten minutes. I swear. I have to make sure we don’t crash into the planet.”

“You will tell me **now**!” Obi-Wan ordered, the Force unfurling at his command. “And you will return my son to me, immediately!”

Tenk grimaced in great pain for a moment before he shook his head and drug his eyes back up to Obi-Wan’s. “Nngh… No! I don’t have time to explain! I have to make this pick up! Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Because the bounties on Jedis can more than pay for a ship like yours!” Obi-Wan growled, gesturing with the unlit saber up accusingly. “And last time we parted, you were broke and in dire need of a ship to keep running from your family!”

The atmosphere re-entry alarm wailed to life, momentarily distracting Obi-Wan and giving the light-fingered pilot a chance to yank the lightsaber out of the Jedi’s hand. He slammed his free hand against a button on the bulkhead next to him, shutting the blast doors leading to the cockpit. Tenk turned on his heel and ran for the cockpit.

Obi-Wan looked at his hand and then at the doors, letting out a furious roar. “TENK! Give me back my son!”

This couldn’t be happening! He didn’t know what to believe anymore, but he knew he had to get to Luke.

“Obi-Wan!” Tenk shouted over through the com, the alarms dying away. “Buckle up! We’re making a 60-degree descent!”

_The com! Luke is up there! He can open the blast doors._

“Luke!” Obi-Wan scrambled to the com switch by the door, nearly tumbling to the floor as the ship bucked through turbulence. “Luke, it’s Papa! Unlock the blast door! I need to get up there!”

There was another loud whump! as the ship seemed to crash through an air pocket and the Jedi tumbled back into the corner of the work area. He pushed himself back to the com speaker. “Are you trying to kill us, Tenk? A droid could fly better than this!”

“I told you to-- yes, the green one-- to strap in!” Tenk grunted through the line. “But you didn’t-- push it all the way up-- trust me! Hold on tight, General!”

Obi-Wan frowned. _Who is he talking to?_

_Oh Stars! No!_

“Tenk, are you letting Luke fly this ship?!” Obi-Wan shouted. “He is five years old! He can’t fly a bloody ship!”

“I’m helping, Papa!” Luke giggled, completely oblivious to his father’s panic. “Now, Captain Tenk?”

“Hit it, kiddo!” Tenk shouted and the whole ship groaned, throwing Obi-Wan backwards against the storage lockers. “You know, General, your son is a great co-pilot! What did his mother fly? Because he sure as hell didn’t get it from you!”

Obi-Wan muttered something uncouth and struggled back upright. He inhaled a sharp breath and used the Force to toss the loose luggage deeper into the ship where it wouldn’t get in his way. With another flick of his finger he turned the com back on. “Luke! This is an order! Open the blast doors right now!”

“Papa?” Luke’s voice now sounded worried and nervous, warring with his happiness at helping fly a real ship. “Is Papa okay?”

Before Obi-Wan could shout that, no, he was absolutely not okay, the infuriatingly cheerful pilot interrupted. “He’s fine! We’re just in the middle of a misunderstanding. And running late, thanks to Old Man Kenobi.”

“How is kidnapping me, and my son, a misunderstanding?!” Obi-Wan shouted, making his way back to the com panel. He realized he was going to have to hotwire the damn door and electronics had never been his forte. He found the panel and yanked it open, pulling wires free and paying no attention to the ship, which had leveled out its trajectory.

“You had better not be tearing up my ship, Kenobi!” Tenk ordered over the com. “I haven’t paid it off yet.”

“That’s your bloody problem,” Obi-Wan spat, anger and worry making his hands tremble. If only Anakin were here to tell him how to open the damn door. “Ah! Kriff!”

“What did you do?” Tenk asked, a surprising amount of concern in his voice for a possible Jedi Hunter. “Are you trying to hotwire my door?!”

“I am tired of asking nicely!” the Jedi retorted, a little embarrassed to discover that this whole situation felt oddly familiar. “As I recall, I had to do something similar when we were caught on Galidraan III. How sad you don’t remember what I’m capable of.”

“I did not kidnap you, you irritating old man!” Tenk grumbled as Obi-Wan’s fingers danced between the wires, waiting for the Force to tell him which one to pull. “Now hold on tight! We’re making our approach!”

“Approach for what?” Obi-Wan frowned, sensing that their ship was speeding towards some destination, the Force singing with tension, fear and delight, a mix of the three occupants on the _Horizon_ as they barreled toward their destiny, whatever it was.

The ship lurched to the right and then a sharp left before there was a cut in speed and Obi-Wan found his footing again. When this was all over he was going to need about two kilograms worth of bacta patches for the bruises he could feel forming but that could wait until he got Luke back.

Nothing mattered until he got Luke back.

Obi-Wan’s life was nothing as long as it meant Anakin’s child was safe.

The Jedi worked frantically, pulling at wires and trying to remember schematics for rewiring a closed door. It had been so long since he was on a mission or forced to interact with circuitry that his mind went blank and he let out a curse in Huttese, slamming his fist against the wall.

_Damnit, Anakin! Why are you never around when I need you?_

It wasn’t until he noticed the breeze ruffling his hair and the faint smell of burning ozone that he realized that the landing ramp was open and that someone was behind him. He stood up straight, reaching out with his senses and was startled to realize that the sharp smell was accompanied by a familiar-sounding hum.

The hum of a lightsaber.

From behind him a female voice spat, “You’ve got five seconds to tell me what the hell is going on here before I start taking off body parts, asshole, and I’m already counting!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh...
> 
> Well Obi-Wan and Luke seemed to have gotten themselves into another fine mess. I do hope they can get out it without anyone losing any limbs. 
> 
> And Thank you again to all of my lovely commenters and to everyone who leaves kudos. It means so much! 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr @ [ Fireflyfish](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com/) where I abuse the tags and harass my lovely [Lily Conrad](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyconrad/pseuds/lilyconrad) about her fantastic Sith!Obi-Wan Fic [The World Undone.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7324675)
> 
> Until next time lovelies!


	8. Classmate

“You’ve got five seconds to tell me what the hell is going on here before I start taking off body parts, asshole, and I’m already counting!”

For the briefest moment, Obi-Wan wondered if he had finally lost his mind. Had the stress been too much for him to handle?

He closed his eyes and inhaled, nostrils flaring as the scent of burning plasma filled his senses.

A lightsaber. There could be no doubting it.

“Four.”

The cool heat and the crackle of the Force told Obi-Wan that, no, he wasn’t dreaming either and it was best to turn around slowly and take stock of the woman behind him.

A brief hysterical bubble of black humor rose up from some dark part of his spirit with the hope that he would somehow find himself face to face with Asajj Ventress. That would have put the perfect capstone on an absolutely horrid week. At least with Asajj he would stand a chance to flirt his way out of whatever disaster he had gotten them into.

If he could still flirt.

“Three.”

_Damn it Kenobi! Pull yourself together and address your opponent. Now is not the time to give yourself over to maudlin hysterics. Luke is counting on you._

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and slowly raised his hands above his shoulders before turning around. He found himself nose to blade tip with a blue lightsaber, humming with power. He let his gaze drop down to the floor, taking in a pair of worn-in black boots with a knife tucked into one shaft, legs in a snug flight suit and a battered brown belt that looked generic and oddly familiar at the same time.

A red-brown braid over her shoulder removed any last small chance that the woman before him was Asajj.

The Jedi Master inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders, prepared to meet his interrogator with some semblance of dignity even as he doubted his own sanity.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, hoping the Negotiator had one last deal in him for this woman. “I am…”

“Master Kenobi?!” the woman in front of him gasped, her eyes round with shock. “You’re alive?!”

Obi-Wan blinked and looked around the room for a brief moment, wondering if this was some kind of cruel, sadistic trick on the part of Tenk or whoever it was that the bastard was working for. He could sense no additional sentients on the ship and now that he thought about it, the ship was still moving, gently climbing up into the atmosphere.

Apparently, Tenk saw no need for the dramatic exit velocity this time.

“Master Kenobi?” the woman asked again, dropping her saber, shutting it off and returning it to the hook on her belt with a motion so fluid and natural it physically pained Obi-Wan to see it. It spoke of years of practice and training, of countless hours under the tutelage of a Jedi Master. It whispered words like Makashi, Soresu, and Ilum.

That little motion was Anakin, Ahsoka, and Qui-Gon.

It was the Temple.

It was home.

Obi-Wan looked into the eyes of another Jedi for the first time in five years.

“Yes?” he whispered, his voice strained by too many emotions and not enough strength to hold them back. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t… ah… recall who you… Ooof!”

“You’re alive!” the woman hugging him tightly cried, her grief and joy snapping and popping in the Force like a roaring fire.

Confusion paralyzed his limbs for a long moment as he tried to bring his mind into order, to move his arms and respond. He awkwardly patted her shoulder in what he hoped was normal. Obi-Wan was having a hard time trying to remember what normal was.

How did Jedi greet each other again?

“I knew it!” the crying woman gasped, stepping back, the Force joyous. “I knew I couldn’t be the last one! Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive! This is amazing! You’re alive and you’re here! How did you get here? Why is the blast door closed? Tenk? Honey? Why did you lock Master Kenobi in the hold?”

She was asking him questions, so many questions. He struggled to remember her, or her master as she hurried over to the com and started talking to Tenk. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, almost falling backwards to sit on the work table. The sudden whiplash between fear, grief and joy was too much for him. His shields were in tatters and her emotions flared around her, bright, warm and suddenly there in his mind. Emotions that were not his or Luke’s or even the phantom pain of Anakin’s rage. He bowed his head, cradling it in his hands and let out a soft groan.

He could feel another Jedi through the Force. How was that possible? The Empire had killed all the Jedi.

Darth Vader had killed all the Jedi.

Hadn’t he?

The blast doors grumbled open and there was Tenk and Luke, the little boy running towards Obi-Wan and throwing himself against him. “Papa? Are you okay? You feel funny. Papa?”

Obi-Wan looked down at Luke, his blue eyes so much like Anakin’s but his furious concern all Padme. He touched the boy’s face and gently patted him on the back as Luke’s Force presence washed over him, blowing away the fear and confusion. His love was bright and steady, a fixed point in the universe and Obi-Wan used it to anchor himself, to struggle to pull his shattered composure back together.

He took a deep breath and then reached down to pick Luke up, hugging him tightly as he let the boy’s presence wash over him. “Thank you, Luke,” he whispered, kissing the boy’s forehead. “I feel much better now.”

Luke frowned, reaching out to touch his father’s whiskered cheek. “Are you sad, Papa?”

_What does your heart tell you you’re made for?_

_Infinite sadness._

Obi-Wan tried to smile. “A bit. Have I worried you, little one?”

The boy nodded, leaning in to hug his father. Obi-Wan smoothed a hand over Luke’s hair, holding him close and promising the boy that everything would be all right, that he would be fine and that they were safe now. He apologized for scaring Luke and confusing him.

“Master Kenobi?” The woman’s voice was soft, gently breaking through the shared silence wrapped around the Jedi and his ward. “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling more like himself as each moment passed. “Yes. I… I am sorry for my earlier actions, Tenk. I… It is hard to not assume the worst these days.”

Tenk smiled, leaning against the bulkhead with one arm wrapped around the woman Obi-Wan assumed was the wife the bartender had spoken of earlier. “Apology accepted. I’m glad to see you’re still all thumbs at hot-wiring doors.”

“What?” Obi-Wan sniffed, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know that I was moments away from my freedom.”

“You were moments away from electrocuting yourself,” Tenk grinned, kissing the side of the Jedi woman’s head. “I’ll leave you two to get reaquainted. Luke? You want to come talk to the hyperdrive?”

Luke leaned away from his father, looking at him with concerned blue eyes. “Papa? Izzat okay?”

Obi-Wan nodded and set Luke down. “Remember, do not touch anything unless Tenk tells you to.”

The blond haired boy nodded and reached up to take the hand offered to him by the white-haired ship captain. They walked down the hallway to the bridge, Luke pausing to look back at Obi-Wan once before he and Tenk turned the corner and were out of sight. With the pair gone, the Jedi Master took a deep breath and turned back to the woman quietly observing him.

Where had he seen her before?

Before the Clone Wars there had been nearly ten thousand Jedi, Padawans, Initiates and younglings in the Temple. While Obi-Wan had taken no pleasure in his fame at the Temple and on the Holonet, it stood to reason that of the two of them, Obi-Wan and this woman, he was by far the more recognizable. He had been a member the High Council and one half of a legendary team that had vanquished more enemies of the Republic than the Jedi Master could remember.

He understood why she recognized him and he felt a bit guilty that he had no idea who she was.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” she said. “I mean, I got your message and I knew you were alive then but that was almost six years ago and then there was that Imperial broadcast…”

“Seswenna,” Obi-Wan nodded, straightening out his beard as if he still worried about his appearance. “Yes, I saw that as well. I’m not quite sure what that was all about.”

The woman shrugged, gesturing with a hand as she started collecting the boxes of parts he had tossed to the ground earlier. “Probably Imperial propaganda. Sorry about the mess, Master Kenobi. If I had known you were coming I would have cleaned up.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “It’s fine. Really. Most of this is my fault anyway. And there is no need to speak with such formality. Obi-Wan is just fine.”

He hadn’t been Master Kenobi in years. And a part of him knew he would never be Master Kenobi ever again.

The woman laughed, returning her storage boxes and soldering iron to their proper home above the workbench. She looked back at him and shook her head. “I don’t know. You were a legend. We spent so much time gossiping about you that at times you weren’t even real.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Oh, I’m real enough. I have plenty of scars to…. I remember now! You’re Dax, the little Corellian girl in Anakin’s class.”

Dax’s nodded. “That’s me. Did… Did he…?”

Obi-Wan frowned and shook his head. “No.”

“Oh,” Dax’s smile turned into a pained line as she looked away for a long moment, taking a few carefully controlled breaths. He recognized the pattern, one taught in the first year of Padawan training, the familiarity soothing after so long forgotten. When she turned back her eyes were too bright but her presence was as calm as could be expected. “I thought so. But then I saw you and I hoped…”

There was a long moment of silent grief and deep sadness shared between the two as they remembered fallen friends. Obi-Wan did not know how Dax made it through Order 66 but it was enough to know that someone had made it out alive. There could be others out there. The light in the galaxy had not gone out completely when Sidious and Vader butchered the Jedi and built their Empire on the remains of the Order.

“Sorry! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? I can make us some tea,” Dax pushed herself away from the wall and crossed through the bulkhead, taking a right instead of a left over to the side of the ship which contained a central living area, two bedrooms and a med room, lit up with a soothing teal-blue light.

Obi-Wan watched as she pulled out a hot plate and a small stainless steel pot and a small, metal tea canister. He sighed and sunk down into a soft chair next to a table. “How did you meet Tenk?”

“You recommended him to my friend’s master,” Dax laughed. “He flew a few missions with him and then when I needed to sneak into Huttspace to recover a missing senator, Master Rast suggested him.”

“Missing? Who?” Obi-Wan frowned, trying to recall if he had ever seen the young woman’s name come up on any of the mission reports he read over as a Council member. “Did we retrieve him?”

“Yes. We did. So after that, if I ever needed help going under the radar, I asked Tenk.”

The Jedi Master nodded, glad he had been of help to someone. “And you two are married?”

“Three years now,” Dax chuckled, adding two small spoonfuls of tea to a ceramic tea pot and then filling it with steaming water. She carried it over to the table and placed it in front of Obi-Wan, handing him a rustic cup that looked like something Qui-Gon might have favored. He poured himself some and chuckled as the aroma of sapir tea hit his nose. “This is…”

“Strange, right?” Dax sat down opposite of the Jedi Master and poured herself some tea, horrifying Obi-Wan when she dumped sugar and milk into it.

“Why would you… adulterate perfectly good tea like that?” Obi-Wan asked, the act reminding him of Anakin and the sweetleaf juice the boy had enjoyed.

“Sapir is too bitter for me,” Dax shrugged, holding the warm cup between her hands. “So… What’s your son’s name?”

“Luke,” Obi-Wan took a careful sip, closing his eyes as the warm, bitter taste hit his palate and the faint herbal fragrance filled up his senses. If this was all a dream and he was still back on that exhausted dustball of a planet or bleeding to death in the gutter in Ord Mantell, he did not want to wake up. “Where are we going?”

Dax pursed her lips. “Towards the Hydian Way, I think. Why? Do you need us to take you someplace?”

_Home. I want to go home._

Obi-Wan took a longer sip of tea. “Honestly, Luke and I had no immediate plans other than getting off Ord Mantell. What exactly is courier work?”

Dax shrugged. “We pick things up and drop them off. We don’t ask a lot of questions but most importantly, we don’t lose the things we pick up.”

“And how the kriff do you manage that?” he asked enjoying his momentary brush with profanity. “Please tell me you’ve not turned to a life of crime. Those were not the kind of attachments I meant when I sent out that message.”

The young woman laughed, a bright sound that reminded Obi-Wan of a room full of Padawans studying for a particularly onerous test, complaining about their master’s unrealistic expectations. He tried to remember if Anakin had ever mentioned her specifically but his memory was fuzzy.

“No, no!” Dax shook her head, sipping her tea. “But if we have expensive or sensitive cargo, it’s not unheard of to be attacked by pirates in open space. I’m the muscle, as it were. Tenk is the face guy. We do pretty well, all things considered.”

There was another silence as Obi-Wan worked through his meal, trying to decide what he should and should not tell this earnest, cheerful Jedi who smiled at him like he was someone important. Someone to look up to and respect.

Like he was Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Dax looked down at her tea and he wondered if she could sense his unease. He knew his shields were a mess and it did not help to be constantly reminded of who he had been once. Before the dark birth of Sidious’s new empire.

“How did you survive Order 66?” Obi-Wan asked, a blunt, honest question from one famous for his wit and tact. It surprised him more than her, startling him to hear the words in the air between them.

She closed her eyes and the room seemed to dim with their shared memories, the pain and betrayal still pulsating in the Force these few short years later. Obi-Wan bowed his head and listened.

Dax looked at her hands and shrugged. “I was with Tenk, actually. We were in hyperspace and coming back from a mission.”

“I knew… as soon as we jumped into the sector that something was wrong,” Dax murmured, her eyes far away. “Tenk told me the news. He… he said he wouldn’t turn me in and that I could stay with him as long as I needed to. We…”

Dak blushed and looked over at Obi-Wan. “We were…”

“Attached?” the Jedi Master offered, all too knowledgeable about forbidden relationships.

She nodded. “Anyway, we ran for the Outer Rim and waited. Once your message came through, I knew that… I wasn’t a Jedi anymore. I was just Dax and eventually, I was okay with that.”

Obi-Wan reached out and squeezed her hand, and she did her best to shake off her dark thoughts and make a game attempt at levity. “So! How are you? What have you been up to for the past five years?”

The older man finished off his tea. “I am, in casual parlance, flat broke. We have been… evading certain parties for a large majority of that time.”

“Seppies, Hutts or Imps?” Dax asked, a wry grin on her face.

“Would you believe all of the above?” Obi-Wan dryly chuckled.

The young woman stood up, laughing and taking their empty cups back to a small disposal unit in the wall. She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Knowing you, yes. I would. C’mon. Let’s go see what those two are up to. I can’t believe you have a kid!”

Obi-Wan followed after her, his smile a bit strained but it was an honest smile for once. “You are not the only Jedi capable of forming attachments, Dax.”

“Yeah but I’m not Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Perfect Jedi,” Dax pointed out, with a smile. “You were on the _Council_.”

“I was hardly the Perfect Jedi,” Obi-Wan sniffed as a memory came to him. “And I was only on the Council for a very short time, as you will recall.”

_“Hey! Skywalker!” a loud voice rang out over the hallway and Anakin groaned, rolling his eyes. Obi-Wan came to a stop and watched his Padawan turn around, his hands on his hips as he waited for the owner of the voice to make her way over to them._

_“Who is that?” Obi-Wan asked, curious._

_“Dax,” Anakin sighed. “She’s in my exo-flora and fauna class.”_

_“Ah,” the Jedi master murmured. “What does she want?”_

_Anakin shrugged. “Dunno.”_

_Dax came to a stop, her voice friendly as she held out a clutch of flimsiplast. “Hey! Here’s the assignments that you missed while you were gone. Let me know if you need to borrow my notes.”_

_Anakin blinked, taking the sheets in one hand. “Oh. Uhm. Thanks.”_

_Dax smiled at him and then turned to Obi-Wan, as if she had just noticed he was there. “Oh! Master Kenobi! Ohmygosh! I’m so sorry Master Kenobi! I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever… it was that you were… doing. Here. I… uhm. Notes! Just com me! I… have to go! Bye!”_

_And with that she ran back over to another young boy and they scurried off into the Temple. He could hear their excitement over a chance meeting with ‘The Obi-Wan Kenobi’. He shook his head and looked down at Anakin, who looked down at his assignments with befuddlement._

_“Is she a friend of yours?” Obi-Wan asked, hopeful._

_“She’s just a classmate,” Anakin shrugged and started walking again, the Force uncertain and clouded around him. He had given up trying to make friends after his second year at the Temple. He thought the other Padawans were jealous and he didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t Obi-Wan or a droid he had reassembled._

“What are you two doing up here?” Dax asked, her voice puncturing Obi-Wan’s memory as they made their way into the cockpit, not at all surprised to see Luke sitting in the co-pilot’s chair. “And who is this adorable little bundle sitting in my chair?”

Luke giggled shyly as he held out a chubby hand. “Luke Kenobi.”

“It is an honor to meet the son of the Great and Legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Dax enthused, squatting down to the boy’s level as she shook his hand. “I’m Dax Sunrunner.”

The boy shook her hand and then frowned at her. He leaned in closer until their foreheads were touching. Tenk watched, curious, looking over at Obi-Wan to see what the Jedi’s reaction would be. Obi-Wan smiled behind his hand, smoothing the whiskers of his beard as the two Force sensitives greeted each other on a plane only a few could see.

“You’re just like Papa and me! Only Papa is brighter because Papa is the best in the galaxy!” Luke said, leaning back as his mouth made a perfect ‘o’ of surprise.

Dax smiled, flickering in the Force like a cheerful hearth fire. “I agree. Master Kenobi is pretty great.”

Obi-Wan blushed and shook his head. “Oh, honestly! Do not encourage him, Dax.”

She grinned and reached out to pick up Luke, who let her with a giggle, before she settled back into her chair with the boy on her lap. “So where to? We can go just about anywhere you want to go.”

Obi-Wan looked from Dax to Tenk, stunned at the offer of a free ride. It made him feel even worse about lying to the young woman who held him in such high esteem.

And to make matters worse, Luke had taken to the both of them like a mynock to a deep space cruiser. There was so much happiness and warmth surrounding him that it took every last bit of his control to not break down or blurt out something he knew he could never share with anyone.

“Papa?” Luke looked over at his father, puzzled. “Are we still going to Alderaan?”

“Don’t you two have something to pick up? Or drop off?” Obi-Wan grasped at straws, unwilling to believe that the Force had just randomly dropped him in the lap of a fellow Jedi and her husband. He never had this kind of luck.

This was always something that happened when Anakin was around.

“I… I hadn’t really… thought about it,” Obi-Wan confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We cannot impose on you like this. You’re putting your lives in danger. Drop us off at Alderaan and be on your way. Be safe. Please. Danger follows us like our shadows.”

Dax arched an eyebrow at Obi-Wan and then turned to Tenk. “I think we need to hire a co-pilot.”

Tenk looked down at Luke and pursed his lips. “Luke? Want to be my co-pilot?”

_Oh no! Stop this right now! That is not fair._

Luke’s eyes lit up and Obi-Wan could swear he saw stars in them. “Like General Skywalker?”

Dax looked over at Obi-Wan with an arched eyebrow. “General Skywalker?”

“He’s da best pilot in the galaxy!” Luke enthused, holding his arms wide to show them how much space the galaxy took up. “An’ I’m going to be just like him! Papa said so!”

“You don’t want to be like your Papa?” Dax teased, tickling Luke, who let out a squeal of happy laughter. “I mean, General Kenobi was pretty awesome. He defeated a Sith Lord.”

“I’ll be just like Papa too!” Luke vowed, looking back at Obi-Wan. “Please Papa? Can we stay? Pretty please! I’ll be good an’ medididate an’ everything! Pleeeeeeeease?”

Obi-Wan looked down at at his son’s soulful puppy-dog eyes, brought to bear on what little caution he had left. He wanted to say no. To keep moving. To protect both Luke and this last Jedi from the black shadow that haunted his every step.

One day, Vader would come for him.

He might have shirked his destiny once before on Mustafar but he knew deep down in his marrow that his death was already a foregone conclusion. It was only a matter of when and if he could complete Luke’s training in the time it took Vader and the Emperor to figure out that not only was Obi-Wan Kenobi alive, but that Anakin Skywalker’s son was in his care and just as powerful as his father was.

That was all that mattered.

What Obi-Wan wanted did not factor into the equation at all.

He should say no. And yet…

_I want to go home. A place where we’re safe. A place where no one is hunting us. I want peace._

_I want to grieve._

_I want to rest._

_I want… to stay._

“Oh fine,” Obi-Wan relented. “Clearly Tenk is in need of some assistance at the helm because what you were doing before was not flying by any definition of the word.”

Tenk held his hands up with a sly grin. “I’m willing to take some pointers from the next best pilot in the galaxy. You, on the other hand, have been demoted to baggage handler.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Baggage handler! I will have you know that I am a perfectly capable pilot.”

“Ah huh, sure you are,” Tenk laughed as he turned to Luke. “So where to, co-pilot?”

Luke looked back at Obi-Wan, who nodded in acquiescence. The child frowned at his hands and looked up at the big field of stars before them, the faint blue light of the Bright Jewel star tinging the edges of the darkness. He closed his eyes and seemed to be listening to the Force with all his might before the answer finally came to him. “I wanna go to Alderaan!”

“To Alderaan!” Dax cheered as Tenk pulled it up on the navi computer.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh and relaxed into the passenger chair, echoing softly. “To Alderaan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _leans in nervously_ H-hi? How is everybody doing today? Are you enjoying Pokemon Go? Is your favorite brand of Sith! Obi-Wan particularly sparkly today? Are you watching the live feed from Star Wars Celebration?
> 
> ^_^;;; heheh....oh boy. .__.
> 
> So... Ahsoka, otherwise known as Girl Not Yet Appearing in this Fic, has not swooped in to rescue Obi-Wan because she's off doing... Dave Filoni Approved(tm) stuff. I know some of you were very excited and hoping for our favorite Togruta and might be upset that she didn't show up. I understand. My girlfriend is a Walking Dead fan and she was pretty furious with AMC after the season six ending. I hope I didn't pull a Negan-level cliffhanger but if I did, I'm very sorry. 
> 
> Ahsoka is still out there. I promise she's in this galaxy and she's not dead. But do you honestly want her married to Tenk? Really? I mean, I made Tenk and *I* don't want her married to Tenk. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who commented with such passion and emotion! You made my day and I adore you all! Obi-Wan would adore you too if he weren't mentally exhausted and just plain done with everything. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! You are wonderful and amazing and I want you to know how much I appreciate it all that you do.
> 
> If you would like to shout at me with gifs and snarky quotes you can find me at tumblr at [FireflyFish.](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com/)


	9. Alderaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Vader goes on a campaign while Obi-Wan and his new found friends discuss his future plans.

Lord Vader was enjoying the brutal subjugation of a holdout cell of Separatists when he remembered that he had dreamt of his old master a few days ago. The dream had taken place on Mustafar and once again, Obi-Wan Kenobi had betrayed him and left him to burn alive, again, the pain and agony of the memory searing its way across phantom nerves. No amount of meditating on his anger could soothe the fire that crawled up and down limbs he no longer had. No triumph would erase the feeling of falling to the ground like a dead bird, a sack of muscles and bones that skidded to a stop just a hair’s breadth away from the mouth of hell.

And the bastard didn’t even have the honor to complete the job and finish him off.

Oh no! Obi-Wan didn’t have time to commit the last act of a _truly_ compassionate and merciful Jedi!

No, he ran away, like a coward. Leaving the crippled and maimed remains of Vader to combust on the side of that infernal river.

Obi-Wan was a craven fool.

And yet Vader had dreamt of the old man and he supposed that meant something. Anakin Skywalker had had premonitions of the future in his dreams. If any of those arrogant imbeciles on the Council had listened to him, perhaps they would have lived through Order 66 and the destruction of the Order. They would have given him a challenge, not like these weak-willed Separatists with their malfunctioning droids and their desperate attempts to bargain for their pathetic lives.

“Please! Have mercy!” a Nemoidian screamed and he cut them down without a second thought, already bored with these pathetic lifeforms and their desperate attempts to avoid their fate.

To Vader, there was nothing like killing a Jedi, to see them lose all hope as he stood before them, to watch their knees buckle and their faith in the Force betray them. A few cried, one or two tried to reach weakly for the dark side and some simply closed their eyes and accepted their fate.

Those were the Jedi he hated the most. The ones at peace.

The Jedi robbed him of his peace. They stole away his happiness and his wife. They maimed him, mutilated him and left him a hulking, shambling monster. He had been the Chosen One, beautiful and perfect, and now he was a _monster_.

But self-pity was for the weak and his desires demanded greater strength of mind.

It was entirely possible that Obi-Wan Kenobi was still alive. He had fled the duel on Mustafar with hardly a scratch on him. And the damn fool had taken Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber with him.

_My lightsaber…_

Vader frowned and clenched his fist, crushing the barrel of a tank’s gun and snapping it off with only the power of the Force.

Obi-Wan had taken _Anakin Skywalker’s_ lightsaber.

Vader had not yet truly faced Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not at his full power, resplendent in the Dark Side of the Force.

When next they met, Vader would succeed where Skywalker had not.

It was Anakin Skywalker who had failed on Mustafar, who had held back from killing Kenobi and then almost called out to the Jedi for help as he lay there in the black glass sand. Anakin Skywalker couldn’t believe that his beloved Master could have betrayed him, that his wife could have betrayed him. He truly believed they were twisted and manipulated by the Jedi, by their lies.

Anakin believed he had loved them.

Vader knew better.

Anakin Skywalker was a pathetic, weak fool and Vader was glad he had killed him.

What did Vader care if Obi-Wan Kenobi had Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber?

The red blade of Vader’s saber cut through another useless squad of droids and then he came to the command center. He made short work of the sentients there and summoned an intelligence droid and officer to search the databanks of the computer terminals there.

All in all, the entire raid had taken a little over twenty minutes. He summoned his ship and when it arrived, he directed it back to his capital ship that was currently in orbit. All thoughts of Obi-Wan Kenobi and any potential son forgotten.

For now.

_My… saber…_

* * *

 

The blue white swirl of hyperspace was hypnotising from the cockpit of the Horizon and it quickly put Luke to sleep after a long, stressful day. Obi-Wan carried him back to a side room and carefully laid him out on a pull out bed, wrapping him up in a warm blanket. Space could be cold and Luke seemed to take after his father in that regard.

Obi-Wan smiled down at the boy, brushing soft blond hair off of his face as he watched him sleep.

He looked so much like Anakin at times like this.

It made him miss his friend all the more.

“I told you to pick up after yourself,” Tenk said to his wife on the other side of the ship, his voice echoing in the curved hallway. “We knew that drop off was going to be dicey on top of the Force-vision bug up your nose.”

Obi-Wan left Luke to sleep. He walked over to the scene of his earlier meltdown, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the back-up system interface. “If you don’t mind me asking, why _were_ you on Ord Mantell when your wife was dropping something off at Anobis?”

Tenk shrugged as he rolled his eyes, gesturing with a gloved hand. “The Force. It’s always the Force.”

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at Tenk as he carefully repaired whatever damage the Jedi had done to the panel, and turned to Dax, who was trying to pick up some metal parts that had rolled under the leather bench. She reached out with the Force and then immediately withdrew with a blush, hoping he hadn’t noticed her frivolous use of it.

“Do not think you need restrain yourself on my behalf.” The Jedi master waved his hand and righted a heavy box that had taken a tumble during the slapdash flight from Ord Mantell. Dax sat up and looked over at the box and then back at Obi-Wan, whose expression indicated he had very little patience for any more “venerable Master Kenobi” nonsense.

At a sheepish gesture from Dax, the rest of the scattered silver parts floated up from whatever tiny holes and crevices they had rolled into and returned to the box on the workbench, which closed with a sharp click. She stood up and returned the parts box to its locker and let out a sigh. “Right. Are we all done back here?”

Tenk grunted and then stepped back and closed the panel. “Yup. Shall we head back up to the cockpit and let the kid sleep?”

“I would appreciate that,” Obi-Wan agreed, following the couple toward the front of the ship. “Now… how did you come to know I would be on Ord Mantell?”

“I didn’t,” Dax said, taking the co-pilot’s seat and turning to look at Obi-Wan, who sat behind her. “But I had a vision of our friend Resk and since we were in the neighborhood, I asked Tenk to pay him a visit.”

“Resk?” Obi-Wan echoed, confused.

“The bartender,” Tenk explained, brushing his blue streak of hair out of his eyes. “He’s also something of a booking agent for couriers who are a bit more… flexible in their moral views.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan nodded. “That’s why he asked what my ‘hustle’ was. And so you just… went?”

Tenk shrugged. “I don’t argue with the Force. It always wins.”

“That’s very fatalistic,” Obi-Wan observed, unconsciously grooming his mustache as he had when he still answered to “Master Kenobi”. “But accurate.”

“How long have you two been on the run?” Dax gently inquired, curious.

Obi-Wan let out a heavy sigh. “We’ve been running since Luke was six months old. I… Our… I could not endanger our host any longer and left. We’ve been on our own since then.”

_Has it only been five years? It feels like fifty._

Tenk let out a low whistle and shook his head. “Well, you’re safe now. Stay as long as you like.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “We couldn’t possibly stay. We are… The Emperor would very much like to have Obi-Wan Kenobi to execute.”

_Although I doubt Vader would give him the chance._

“I thought we had discussed this. Besides, nobody needs to know who you were before Empire Day,” Tenk pointed out, his arms folded over his chest. “And you can’t honestly tell me you’d rather scrounge your way across the galaxy with a five-year-old on your back.”

Obi-Wan sniffed. “We’ve been doing just fine.” _Please… I want to keep you two safe. I need to know there is at least one other Jedi out there. I need to know I am not the last Jedi in the galaxy._

Dax’s eyebrow jumped. “You said you were flat broke an hour ago.”

“And you already told Luke he could go to Alderaan which costs two thousand credits,” Tenk announced, turning toward the piloting array. “And since you are flat broke, I guess you’ll just have to work off your debt.”

“My debt?” Obi-Wan scoffed, looking mightily offended and Dax covered her mouth to hide her laugh. He paid her no mind and leaned forward to give Tenk his best Jedi Master glare. “I do not recall owing you two credits, let alone two thousand.”

“Well there’s the cost of fuel, and food, not to mention the wear and tear to my ship,” Tenk sniffed, doing a rather good impersonation of Master Kenobi at his most aristocratic. “Honestly, Obi-Wan, it’s a wonder you don’t owe me more money for the mess you made in the hold.”

Dax smothered a giggle and held up her hands. “Peace, gentlemen! Peace. I do not want to see this well-meaning sacrificial squabble come to blows.”

“Well, if your husband would just be reasonable,” Obi-Wan grumbled, surprised at how easy it was to fall back into the familiar patterns of friendship and camaraderie. “He would drop Luke and I off at Alderaan and be done with us.”

“And if Master Kenobi,” Tenk said, tinkering with a few of the engine outputs, “would stop being such a damn martyr, he would realize he’s safe with friends for once.”

“And I’m sure Luke could use a break from all that running,” Dax observed, quietly trying to make the stubborn Jedi see reason.

Obi-Wan gave a loud, long sigh and raised his hands, exhausted. “Fine. I yield. We shall stay until I work off this onerous debt.”

Dax gave Obi-Wan a bright smile as Tenk nodded with smug satisfaction. “It’s about damn time someone made you see reason.”

Shaking his head, resigning himself to the situation, Obi-Wan’s mouth quirked in amusement. “When will we make it to Alderaan?”

“We’ve got at least another 24 hours in hyperspace,” Tenk said, peering at the computer. “And it’s about twenty-one hundred local time. You want to get some sleep with your kid?”

Obi-Wan frowned, looking down at his hands. “I… I am not yet ready for sleep. I would be happy to keep watch if you two are tired.”

“I think I will take you up on that,” Tenk announced, standing up and stretching out. “Honey? You heading to bed?”

Dax smiled up at her husband and reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’ll be along in a bit. There are some things I want to talk to our new crew hand about.”

Tenk waved goodnight to the two, yawning as he ambled off to sleep as Obi-Wan stood up and slipped into the pilot’s chair, admiring the excellent craftsmanship that when into the Horizon. Tenk and Dax had paid a pretty penny for the lovely little ship.

There was a long period of silence as the two sat together, watching the swirl of stars outside the cockpit. Obi-Wan waited for whatever it was Dax had to say, mentally preparing his carefully woven stories.

“What can I tell Luke?” she finally asked, looking over at Obi-Wan. “About the Jedi and the war?”

Obi-Wan was surprised by her question, expecting her to ask about Luke’s mother or Force forbid the real identity of Lord Vader. He had even thought about lying about the survival of Master Yoda but he decided that that was bridge too far.

“Ah… well,” he mulled that question over in his mind, not sure what she would tell Luke that he hadn’t already told him. “He knows that there was a war and that I fought in it. He is quite fond of stories about Anakin and his Padawan, Ahsoka Tano.”

Dax grinned. “I heard some pretty spectacular stories about you three. I can only imagine how they sound to a kid like him.”

Obi-Wan looked away for a moment, rather surprised to find he was a bit embarrassed talking about this. “I don’t factor into most of his favorite stories. He… aspires to be just like General Skywalker when he grows up.”

_Just like his father._

“Hmmn,” Dax said, watching him carefully. “So… If I offer to play keep-away with him, will he know how to play?”

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes soft. “He loves that game and we so rarely have an opportunity to play.”

“Are you going to train him?” she asked, head tilted to the side. “I mean, he’s pretty powerful. He practically glows.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and covered them with one hand as he rubbed at his temples. “I… I hadn’t thought about it recently. I selfishly admit to simply enjoying his childhood.”

He wouldn’t say it out loud, or even to himself, but Obi-Wan was also enjoying the brief respite from being the shepherd of destiny. He was wary of training Luke after his colossal failure with Anakin and he had no desire to rush into the structure and dictates of the Code and the Order.

The Order had failed Anakin.

It had failed Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan doubted it would do any better with Luke.

Perhaps a new path would be needed.

But Dax was talking to him about something and Obi-Wan struggled to catch up to the conversation. “I’m sorry, my dear. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that you two should stick around for a while,” she said, fiddling with another engine knob. “Take some time to think about where you want to settle down. We’ll cut you in on any jobs you want to help out with and maybe we can find you a quiet planet. Some place far away from Galactic Central.”

Obi-Wan pondered that for a long moment.

Hadn’t he sworn that to the Force? If they made it out of the mess in Gingensu he would find a quiet place and they would settle down?

Was this their chance?

_Did I… Did the Force do this?_

Weariness and exhaustion washed through Obi-Wan and he let out a long and heavy sigh. “Dax, would you mind terribly if I retired as well?”

She shook her head, her eyes warm and soft. “No. Get some sleep, Ma… Obi-Wan.”

He smiled at her correction and touched her shoulder before he walked back into the ship, letting out a yawn and surprised to find himself looking forward to sleep for the first time in quite a while.

Obi-Wan found his way back to their dark, quiet room and pulled out his own bed. He sat down with another yawn and pulled off his boots and jacket, staring at the floor in front of him, wondering if it was safe to take off his belt and holster. There was no reason to wear it in his sleep but his jangly nerves and anxiety refused to acknowledge his logical argument.

Luke slept on, oblivious to his father’s struggle to let go, to trust another person. Obi-Wan knew the boy had instinctively reached out to Tenk and Dax in the Force and found them worthy of his trust. There was no way to explain the mess of their departure from Ord Mantell without a bone-deep belief on the part of Luke. If Anakin’s son could trust them, then why couldn’t Obi-Wan?

_Sleep…_ the Force whispered, pleaded. _Let go and fall. You will be caught._

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and unbuckled his belt, laying the circle of leather and weapons on the small shelf at the head of the bed. He immediately felt lighter, almost giddy as he laid down on the sleep pad and looked over at Luke.

He closed his eyes. _He is so wonderful. I am so lucky to have him._

The Jedi took another breath and then sleep claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody enjoyed this sneak peak into Vader's headspace and Obi-Wan's futile attempts and badgering Tenk and Dax into obeying Master Kenobi! We'll be in space for a little bit longer and then we'll land on Alderaan and that means two things: Snow capped mountains and The Organa family! ^_~
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr where I kvetch about looking for reference photos and argue with characters in the tags. [FireflyFish](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com/)


	10. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way to Alderaan, Luke learns that sometimes Jedi play with their food and Obi-Wan ponders his personal grooming habits.

“Papa?”

Luke frowned when his father did not wake up at his call. He walked over to him, carefully picking his way over his father’s dusty boots, and pushed on his shoulder.

“Paaapaaa!”

His father let out a rumble of a snore and turned into his pillow, reaching out with a hand to find Luke’s face and hair. “S-sleepin…”

Luke pouted and folded his arms over his chest in an unknowingly exact mimicry of his unconscious protector. He wanted to stomp his feet and shout, to make his father wake up and get him some breakfast but there was a part of him that understood, the small part that tickled when they played keep-away or tried to meditate on a small green leaf, that his father really needed his rest.

But that left Luke all alone in this dark room on a strange ship with Tenk, who was really nice and taught him all kinds of things about flying and Dax, who glowed in the Force when Luke looked at her with his secret eyes. They were very nice people but he didn’t want to go out there and just announce that his stomach was empty and he needed to eat because that would be rude and Kenobis were not rude.

The light on the door flickered and it slid open, revealing the kind and curious face of Dax, who wiggled her fingers in greeting at Luke and whispered a soft, “Hello, little one! Are you hungry? We’re making breakfast.”

Luke could smell something sweet like Corellian spiced crispy bread, the delicious smell of bacon and the rich fragrance of caf. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face could have powered the _Horizon_ to the Outer Rim and back. He scampered out the door and ran around Dax’s leg and down the hallway to the table where Tenk was setting out a plate with scrambled eggs, something that might have been puffed up crispy bread and a few pieces of thick bacon. The blue-streaked pilot smiled down at the boy and picked him up, setting him down in front of the heavenly meal.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” Tenk asked his wife as she followed Luke at a more sedate pace. “Still asleep?”

Dax nodded, picking up a cup of citrus juice and placing it in front of Luke. “Yeah. We’ll let him sleep a little bit longer. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.”

“Papa is always tired,” Luke said, trying to shove as much food into his mouth as possible. “He doesn’t like to sleep because the ghosts talk to him in his sleep.”

Tenk looked from Dax to Luke and then back to Dax, an eyebrow arched. His wife smiled up at him and patted his hand. “Two eggs overeasy, sweetheart.”

Tenk nodded and hurried over to the hot plate, happy to leave the Force voodoo to his Jedi wife.

“Do you hear your Papa talking to the ghosts, Luke?” Dax asked, helpfully cutting up his food. Luke took a long drink of his citrus juice before putting the cup back on the table and letting out a happy sigh. “Sometimes. When he’s talking or thinking really loud. I don’t like it when he talks to the ghosts. They make him sad.”

Dax nodded, stealing a piece of bacon from Luke’s plate, which he felt was very rude and he let her know with a strong protest and she laughed. He wasn’t sure that was the proper response to the theft of a precious breakfast but what could he do? Dax was a Jedi and he wasn’t even a Padawan yet.

“You know… when _I_ was at the Temple,” Dax began, her eyes alight with something he couldn’t label but understood on a gut level. The nice woman was going to share a secret with him that his Papa would probably not approve of. “We would play a game to see who could eat the most food with the Force.”

Luke’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ of shock and delight. “You did? Who won?”

Dax leaned in even closer and wiggled her eyebrows at him, her emotions crackling with happiness and inviting Luke to come play. “Who do you think? What do you say, Luke? You up for the challenge?”

“I will _not_ be cleaning up after you two,” Tenk sniffed from the hot plate where he was flipping his wife’s eggs over. “And I’m pretty sure Obi-Wan would not approve of this.”

Luke looked back up at Dax, a little worried that he could be getting in trouble with his Papa. The Jedi and the boy exchanged looks before the she leaned forward and she stage whispered, “General Skywalker once ate an entire Felucian mushroom-covered circle-bread with both hands tied behind his back.”

“He did?” the boy was hooked and he immediately began to focus on levitating a small piece of bacon off his plate and into his mouth.

“Dax!” Tenk protested. “Don’t encourage him.”

But his wife would not be stopped in her attempt to give Luke even the briefest taste of what it had been like to grow up in the Temple, and an important part of being a youngling was playing with the Force, and your food, from time to time.

Bacon, eggs, a knife and fork floated through the air over the breakfast table and Luke had to admit that this was quite possibly the best breakfast he had ever had. This was even better than the time they had been living in a haunted cottage owned by a crazy lady with two heads and she brought them fresh bread every morning with delicious fruit jam that he got stuck in his hair. Luke missed that lady and he hoped she was doing okay.

And then there was scrambled eggs gently but insistently trying to bump into his forehead and he reached up to swallow it whole, pretending to be the great Sarlacc pit in the Dune Sea on Tatooine. Luke grinned and turned back to his food.

The meal passed this way for some time for Luke and Dax, Tenk watching with a bemused face. He did have to admit the boy was adorable and he couldn’t quite describe it but, he lit up the space around them. As strange as it was to see pieces of waffles floating over his table, the pilot realized having a Force-sensitive kid might not be as weird as he thought it would be. It didn’t seem to be any more complicated than growing up in a family of 11 siblings from three different mothers.

Just as it seemed breakfast was coming to its natural conclusion there was a loud bear of a yawn and the sound of feet in the hallway. Luke let out a happy laugh and called out to his father. “Good morning, Papa! It’s breakfast time!”

Obi-Wan managed to recover enough of his exhausted manners to cover his mouth at his next yawn and he leaned against the bulkhead, wondering what mess he had just walked in on. Dax was looked up at him in a pale imitation of innocence and Tenk had just taken a long sip of coffee, studiously avoiding the Jedi Master’s eyes.

“Luke, did I not explain to you that breakfast goes in your mouth and not on your head?” Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, walking over to the table and happily taking the seat vacated by Dax, who took over cooking duties for her husband.

Luke laughed and floated a piece of bacon over to Obi-Wan, who gingerly plucked it from the air and finished it off with gusto. “It’s Force breakfast, Papa! Dax told me that she played it when she was a Padawan.”

“Did she?” Obi-Wan looked up at Dax, who had the good sense to ignore the only slightly annoyed look the Jedi Master was giving her. “And what else did she tell you about Force breakfast?”

“That General Skywalker ate a whole Felucha mushroom bread!” Luke said, frowning at a particularly syrup-covered piece of waffle that did not want to give up its sweet embrace of the plate. “C’mon! Move!”

“Ah… I remember that episode,” Obi-Wan chuckled, gesturing with one finger at the bit of waffle that rose up slowly from the plate, syrup dripping off of it. “Hmmn… spiced waffles. I haven’t had these since the last time I was on Nidai II.”

“Hey!” Luke protested as yet another cruel adult tried to steal his breakfast. “That’s mine!”

The Battle for the Waffle Bite had begun and Tenk decided it would be prudent for him to leave the line of fire. “I am leaving for the cockpit. You are responsible for cleaning this up, Kenobi. I’m adding it to your debt if anything gets ruined.”

“Duly noted, slave driver,” Obi-Wan laughed as Luke yanked the waffle out of his Force grip, sending it flying and landing with a sticky thwap on the floor. Luke looked horrified, whirling around to look back at his father, who made a great show of looking a little bit embarrassed. “Oh dear. Waffle down!”

Dax turned to look back at Luke and Obi-Wan, smiling. “One waffle or two? And how do you like your eggs?”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought, a bit ashamed at how messy it had become and his hair too while he was at it. Perhaps he could stop in at a barber’s while they were on Alderaan. “One, please, and scrambled.”

Luke looked up at his father, his blue eyes shining. “Are you going to have Force breakfast too?”

Obi-Wan made a dramatic show of thinking about whether not he was going to have a brief moment of happiness with his adopted son. “Well… I’m not sure. I wouldn’t want to make General Skywalker look bad.”

“What?” the boy was scandalized. “How?”

Obi-Wan looked over at the far wall, where a bottle of citrus juice was resting. He reached out with the Force, taking a firm hold on the bottle and gently floating over towards himself and Luke. There was the faintest tremor in his control but using the Force like this was more muscle memory than anything else. It came back to him easily and then he was floating a cup put out for him by Dax, pulling the ceramic object over to the table. Luke was mesmerized as he watched Obi-Wan carefully unscrew the top of the bottle and cautiously begin to pour the bright orange juice into the cup.

“Woah…” Luke whispered, now firmly convinced his father was even more powerful than General Skywalker, in spite of all of the stories he had heard to the contrary.

Obi-Wan finished with the juice and righted the bottle, capping it and then wordlessly handed it off to Dax who called the bottle to her hand and then placed it in the fridge. She shook her head and smiled. “You are just as bad as Anakin.”

The Jedi Master shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, he had to learn it somewhere.”

Dax left the father and son to their meal, pausing just long enough to pick up the downed bit of waffle before she headed up to the cockpit with a cup of caf for her husband.

“Now what are the rules to Force breakfast?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to dress his spiced waffle. “I have not played since I was a youngling and I would hate to break the rules.”

“You hafta use the Force to eat breakfast!” Luke decreed, fairly exhausted by all of his play but more than ready to watch his father shine like the sun the boy knew him to secretly be. “And you can’t steal my stuff!”

“I see,” Obi-Wan nodded. “And how will I know if I win?”

“If you can clean your whole plate first, you win,” the boy decreed, gesturing to his plate which contained the sticky remains of scrambled eggs and mutilated hunks of waffles. “Dax beat me but I’m gonna beat you!”

“Is that so?” the Jedi Master wiggled his eyebrows and the next round of Force breakfast had begun, messier than the first round but no less enjoyable for the father and son. Luke quickly exhausted his strength in the Force so he decided that it was time he have revenge for his stolen food and Obi-Wan didn’t try as hard as he could to keep his breakfast out of his son’s reach.

A truce was called when the teapot let out a whistle of protest and Obi-Wan got up to take it off the hot pad and made himself a cup of tea, wondering again if this was really his life or if he had somehow ended up in some kind of hallucinated Force purgatory, waiting for the ultimate judgement on his fate.

For the first time in a good long while, he chose to believe in reality as he saw it.

“Papa, can I have some tea?” Luke asked. “With some sugar?”

Obi-Wan nodded, rummaging around in the cabinets before he found a cup and the sweetener. He poured out tea for Luke and added a spoonful of sugar, carrying it back to his boy and using the Force and a clean spoon to stir it in before handing it to his son. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

* * *

 

A good half hour later, possibly more, Obi-Wan and Luke were cleaning up the table and kitchen area when Tenk and Dax emerged from the cockpit. Happy to see them, the boy ran over to them, one big messy smile and even messier hair. “I won, Dax! I beat Papa!”

Dax laughed and knelt down to Luke’s eye level. “Congratulations! How did you manage it? General Kenobi is a cunning foe.”

Luke looked back at his father, who was nonchalantly resting his chin on his hand, his hair sticking upwards in messy spikes and his beard… well, his beard had seen better days.

Tenk slapped a hand over his mouth and turned around, his body quaking with laughter as Dax bit her lip and looked back to Luke, using every ounce of her training to not bust a gut like her husband. “Did you do that, Luke?”

Luke nodded. “Yes. I did. Papa lost and that was his punishment.”

Tenk managed to regain control of himself and wheezed in mirth. “Jedi are harsh.”

“Well… I did lose,” Obi-Wan commented, having fun playing the sardonic straight man again. “And now that we have cleaned up after our meal, where might we clean up ourselves?”

“I’ll show you,” Tenk offered, walking past the artful, syrup-created coif that his friend was sporting. “What I wouldn’t give for one of those holo cameras.”

“I”m afraid I would be forced to do something disagreeable if you had one,” Obi-Wan replied, standing up and holding out his hand to Luke. “Come along, little one. It’s time we made ourselves presentable.”

The refresher was not spacious by any means but the water was hot and towels were soft. It took Obi-Wan nearly a half hour to scrub every last bit of syrup, butter and scrambled eggs off Luke, who was a good sport for most of the scrubbing and he only really put up a fight when Obi-Wan insisted that the rakish sugar encrusted spikes of hair he molded for himself had to go. But as far as five year-old temper tantrums went, this one was mild and even a bit endearing.

It reminded the Jedi of when Anakin had been younger and he would act out to get Obi-Wan’s attention.

When the boy from Tatooine first came to the Temple it had been all the Jedi Master could do to get a moment alone and away from the overpowering presence of Anakin Skywalker. He had followed him everywhere, had pressured him constantly for attention and had needed far more physical reassurance and comfort than Obi-Wan could ever remember needing when he was Anakin’s age.

“Papa?” Luke asked after Obi-Wan finished toweling off his hair. “Do we have to leave the ship when we get to Alderaan?”

The Jedi knelt down before his ward, his eyes soft as he touched Luke’s cheek. “No. Remember? I said we could stay. How long would you like to stay here?”

Luke pursed his lips, a comical pout of deep thought. “Forever?”

Obi-Wan’s lips curved into something that was neither a smile nor a frown, a bittersweet expression the boy was too young to understand. “Forever is a long time, Luke. If we stay on the _Horizon_ then we can’t have a house and you can’t get a tooka.”

“The ship can be our house!” Luke said, folding his skinny arms over his tiny chest. “Please, Papa! I wanna stay!”

Obi-Wan sighed and helped Luke change into his other set of clothes, a beat-up approximation of youngling robes, electing to leave off the extra layers. “We cannot stay here forever, Luke, but we can stay for a good long while. Besides, Tenk seems to have taken a liking to my indentured servitude.”

With Luke bathed and dressed, Obi-Wan told him to run up to the front of the ship where Tenk and Dax were. He watched the tow-headed boy dash down the hallway, his bare feet slapping against the metal floor as he hurried out of sight. The Jedi knew the boy was near the cockpit when he heard Luke shout an enthusiastic greeting and felt the warmth of the couple’s affection radiate through the Force, pure and happy.

When was the last time they had both been happy?

Obi-Wan peeled himself out of his civilian clothes, leaving them in a pile and making a mental note to ask about the location of the washer when he got out. If they were going to be staying on the Horizon for the foreseeable future, then perhaps it was time to buy them both a new set of clothes. Luke was another growth spurt away from outgrowing his and Obi-Wan’s civilian wear was threatening to give out on him, the seams and fabric never designed for the demanding moves of Jedi combat.

The shower turned on quickly, steaming up hedonistically fast and Obi-wan stepped into the spray, letting out a sigh of relief and pleasure. It almost felt sinful, taking a long quiet shower in peace, letting someone else watch Luke while he did nothing, just let the water work through the gunk that was in his hair and beard and Force only knew where else.

_This is absolutely worth two thousand credits. Possibly more. Yes. Definitely more._

Obi-Wan grabbed some shampoo and started to work through his hair, trying not to think, to simply be in the silent moment and appreciate whatever the Force wanted to share with him. Mostly it was the simple warmth coming from Luke, bright and constant like a sun but now and then he felt whispers of emotions and thoughts steal across his mind’s eye. There were fears, sudden, seizing images that he worked hard to acknowledge and soothe away, desires for more sleep and safety and then there were brief snippets of memories, pasted over the here and now like a mental collage. They were the voices of his friends and family, lost to him now, but carried in his heart until he would return to the Force and rejoin them.

 _I can’t believe you got into a food fight, Obi-Wan!_ Anakin’s imagined voice was warm with disbelief at the Jedi Master’s earlier behavior at breakfast. _I’m pretty sure that’s against the Code, Master._

“Kriff the code,” Obi-Wan murmured to his memory, happily scrubbing through his hair. “It made him smile and that’s all I care about.”

 _Did Master Kenobi just curse?_ Ahsoka’s bright voice brought a smile to his lips as he rinsed out the soap and the last of the sugary shellacking from his hair. _Is that allowed? Should we alert the Council?_

“Was I always such a stick in the mud?” he asked the air, finishing his shower with a happy sigh and stepping out to find his own towel, the water sluicing down a pale form much skinnier than it used to be. The Jedi sighed and shook his head, realizing there was nothing to be done about it.

 _Yes, you were,_ Anakin’s voice teased, as Obi-Wan walked over to the mirror and frowned at his reflection. _Oh for stars sake, Obi-Wan! You look terrible. Would it kill you to take better care of yourself?_

 _He’s right, Master._ Ahsoka’s memory ghost chimed in. _You need to eat more and rest. You can’t take care of a child on a few hours of sleep and a half a sandwich every other day._

Obi-Wan touched his face, running two fingers down his sharp cheekbones before touching one of the bags under his eyes. The lines at the corners of his eyes were deeper now and there were wrinkles and streaks of white in the ginger thatch of hair that seemed to grow more and more unruly the longer he looked at it. It was a wonder Tenk had recognized him under his scruffy beard and too long hair.

 _It was the Force._ Anakin’s voice insisted and he could almost see his old friend’s smug smile and he wondered if Luke would inherit that.

“Should I shave?” Obi-Wan asked no one in particular, running his hands down his chin.

That seemed to startle the imagined voices of Ahsoka and Anakin, who went silent, leaving the Jedi alone with his reflection. He narrowed his eyes, turning his head this way and that, wondering just what Satine would have said, after wearing a beard for most of his adult life.

He had started wearing it to make himself look older, to borrow the gravitas that came naturally to Qui-Gon with his towering physical presence, and it just seemed too much of a hassle to go back to shaving every day. By the time he felt comfortable in his role of Anakin’s mentor, the boy was was taller than he was and the beard served as a defining characteristic between them.

Anakin was young, tanned, smooth, and wildly beautiful.

Obi-Wan was older, pale, furry, and not beautiful by any measure of the word.

Perhaps he wouldn’t shave after all. Or perhaps he would ask Luke and see what his son thought.

* * *

 

“You can do that?” Luke asked, from the co-pilot’s chair where he had been fiddling with a logic puzzle when Obi-Wan emerged from the shower in his old and battered temple robes, his hair finally combed and his beard recovered from its punishment at breakfast.

Dax failed to smother a giggle as she sat behind Tenk, cleaning a blaster. Obi-Wan turned to look back at her with an arched brow. She tried to look recalcitrant and he shook his head before turning back to his son.

“Of course I can,” Obi-Wan explained, stroking his chin. “If you do not like it, I can always grow it back.”

“But… Papa always has a beard,” Luke mused, his little fingers working over the logic puzzle with dogged determination. “Do you want to shave it?”

Obi-Wan gave this a long moment of thought. “It would be nice to try something new, don’t you think?”

Thinking hard, the puzzle momentarily forgotten, Luke stared up at the ceiling, his dark brows furrowed in concentration. Tenk watched quietly, his eyes moving from father to son before he looked over at Dax, who was very serious about the cleanliness of her blaster.

“If anybody wants my opinion…” Tenk spoke into the air, nonchalantly thinking out loud. “A Jedi Master on the run shouldn’t look so much like a Jedi. Ditch the beard and change your hair color. How about bright green?”

Obi-Wan turned to Tenk, his eyes round with horror. “What? Green hair? I would look ridiculous.”

But Luke started to giggle.

And then Dax, never one to miss a chance to share in a laugh, jumped in. “Green hair is so two seasons ago, Tenk. The real cutting-edge fashion is pastels with metallic highlights. How about pink, Luke?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I am not dyeing my hair pink.”

Luke’s giggles only got worse.

“I agree with my wife,” Tenk smiled, looking back at Obi-Wan. “I’ll take a thousand credits off your debt if you’ll dye your hair pink.”

“What?” Obi-Wan scoffed. “I do not recall ever borrowing two thousand credits from you and I am certainly not going to dye my hair into a nonsensical rainbow because some spoiled nit-wit on Coruscant thinks it’s fashionable!”

“Why don’t we try another color then?” Dax offered as Luke pouted and demanded they go back to pink.

“Ooo! Red, Papa!” Luke gasped, his eyes going wide. “No no! Blue and white like Padawan Tano! Can you grow mon… mon… mondrals?”

Obi-Wan looked askance at Luke and wondered if Tenku and Dax had given him something while he was in the shower. “I am not a Togruta, Luke. And the word you are looking for is montrals. Which I cannot grow, or lekku for that matter.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Luke pouted, disappointed that his father was not capable of shapeshifting into a Togruta female like the Legendary Padawan Tano.

“I will consider dying my hair a different color,” Obi-Wan finally relented, relaxing back into his chair. “And we will need to purchase some new clothes.”

“I know a good tailor on Alderaan,” Tenk said, pulling up a datapad and scrolling through a contact list. “I’ll just add it to your tab.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “How kind of you.”

“Are we there yet?” Luke asked, still fussing with his puzzle.

Shaking his head, Tenk punched up the flight plan and chrono on the dashboard so that Luke could see their progress. “We have eight more hours, kid. Do you want to go watch a holo back in your room?”

Luke shook his head, not looking up. “We don’t have any holos. We have a… a… what’s it called, Papa?”

Obi-Wan voice was soft. “A holocron, Luke.”

“We have those,” Luke nodded, looking up at Tenk.

Tenk decided he didn’t need to know what a holocron was, especially when he had a collection of some classic adventure serial holos that Luke could happily veg out on for a few hours. “Well why don’t we save the holocron for another time? Have you ever seen The Battle for Freedom?”

Luke shook his head, his blond hair flying as he did. “No! What is that?”

“It’s the a holomovie all about the Mandalorian wars,” Tenk grinned, standing up. “Dax? Will you take the stick while I introduce Luke to some classic cinema? You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan decided that a few hours spent reliving the past wouldn’t be an absolutely appalling way to spend the time until Alderaan and he stood up and followed after Luke and Tenk as they headed back into the common area. He would just have to come up with a honest enough explanation for what happened with General Revan.

As soon as he could find a way to explain what happened to General Skywalker.

Obi-Wan shook his head and wondered if his life wouldn’t have been easier as a farmer on Bandomeer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! ^_^;;;;;;;;
> 
> So... This fic is still alive. I swear the other ones haven't eaten it whole. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the mental image of Obi-Wan Kenobi with pink hair because I assure you that Luke found it _hysterical._ Anyway, thank you for stopping by and as always if you'd like to enjoy some silly Star Wars memes, watch me TYPE IN ALL CAPS ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE SOMETHING then you are more than welcome to come visit me on tumblr at [FireflyFish.](http://fireflyfish.tumblr.com/)


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